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OUR  ASIATIC  NEIGHBOURS 

Indian  Life.     By  Herbert  Compton 

Japanese  Life,   By  George  W.  Knox 

Cfiinese  Life.    By  E.  Bard 

Piiilippine  Life.     By  James  A.  Le 
Roy 

Australian  Lite. 


OUR    ASIATIC 
NEIGHBOURS 


AUSTRALIAN  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND 
COUNTRY 


HYDRAULIC    MINING,  THE    WALLON    BORE,    MOREE    DISTRICT.     DEPTH   3695 
FEET,  FLOW  800,000  GALS.,  TEMP.  114°  F. 


^  &  AUSTRALIAN 
LIFE  IN  TOWN 
AND  COUNTRY 

^        ^         By  E.  C.  BULKY 


ILLUSTRATED 


G.   P.   PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW   YORK   AND   LONDON 

^be  fjnickerbocftec  press 
1905 


Copyright,  1Q05 

BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Zbe  ftn(ci:erboci!ec  prees,  "new  l!?orI: 


B^^ 


CONTENTS 
CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

Country  and  Climate i 

CHAPTER  II 
Squatters  and  Stations 14 

CHAPTER  III 
Station  Work 28 

CHAPTER  IV 
On  a  Selection 42 

CHAPTER  V 
The  Never-Never  I/AND 55 

CHAPTER  VI 
On  the  Wallaby  Track 69 

CHAPTER  VII 
In  Time  of  Drought 81 


.SO^di  O 


vi  ^         Contents 

CHAPTER  VIII 

PAGE 

Urban  Australia 95 

CHAPTER  IX 
Life  in  the  Cities 108 

CHAPTER  X 
State  Socialism  and  the  Labour  Party       .    122 

CHAPTER  XI 
Golden  Australia 134 

CHAPTER  XII 
Farm  and  Factory 145 

CHAPTER  XIII 
The  Australian  Woman 157 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Home  and  Social  Life 169 

CHAPTER  XV 
The  Australian  at  Play 182 

CHAPTER  XVI 
The  Aborigines 195 

CHAPTER  XVII 
A  White  Australia 208 


Contents  vii 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

PAGE 

Education,  Literature,  and  Art      .        .        .    220 

CHAPTER  XIX 
Nationai.  Life  in  Australia       ....    232 

CHAPTER  XX 
The  Austrauan 245 

CHAPTER  XXI 
Industriai,  Pioneers 258 

CHAPTER  XXII 
Australia's  Destiny 270 

Index 283 


II<LUSTRATI0NS 

PAGE 

Hydrauwc  Mining,  The  Wai,i,on  Bore,  Moree 
District,  Depth  3695  Feet,  Flow  800,000 
Gals.,  Temp.  114°  F.    .        .        .    Frontispiece 

Head  oe  Freshwater  River,  National  Park      16 

Mount  Victoria  Pass,  New  South  Wales       .      28 

(Courtesy  of  Marselis  C.  Parsons,  Esq.,  New  York.) 

State  Nursery  near  Cairns       ....      46 

A  Miner's  Hut,  Lithgow  Valley,  New  South 
Wales 54 

Broken  Hill  Silver  Mines,  New  South  Wales     64 

Road  Scene  on  the  Camberwarra  Mountain, 

Shoalhaven  District 86 

(Courtesy  of  Marselis  C.  Parsons,  Esq.,  New  York.) 

Sluicing  eor  Gold  at  Freshwater  .       .       .    104 

Cattle  Crossing,  Nepean  Towers,  New  South 
Wales 120 

(Courtesy  of  Marselis  C.  Parsous,  Esq.,  New  York.) 

Hannan  Street,  Looking  West,  Kalgoorlic, 

IN  1895 140 

ix 


Illustrations 


PAGE 


Hannan  Street,  Kai^goorwc,  in  1905       .       .  144 

View  oe  a  Queensi^and  Seaport  Town,  Towns- 

VIIvI,E 156 

Pl,ANTlNG  SDGAR-CanE,   QUEENSLAND  .          .          .  170 

AT  Work  amongst  the  Cane      .        .        .        .182 

View  of  Hartley  Vale 202 

(Courtesy  of  Marselis  C.  Parsons,  Esq.,  New  York.) 

Scene  at  a  Wayside  Inn,  New  South  Wales  224 


AUSTRALIAN  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND 
COUNTRY 


AUSTRALIAN  LIFE 
IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 


CHAPTER  I 

COUNTRY  AND  CI.IMATE) 

IT  has  often  been  claimed  for  the  British  that 
they  are  a  successful  colonising  people,  and 
this  claim  has  not  been  advanced  without  very 
sufficient  grounds.  Those  who  assign  this  char- 
acteristic to  the  race  imply  that  it  possesses,  above 
all  things,  the  faculty  of  adaptability.  If  the  colo- 
nising Briton  were  not  able  to  suit  himself  readily 
to  the  necessities  and  the  climatic  conditions  of 
his  new  environment,  he  would  not  be  a  success 
as  a  colonist.  It  is  further  characteristic  of  the 
Briton  that,  until  very  recently,  he  has  not  been 
disposed  to  exhibit  any  satisfaction  in  his  colonis- 
ing feats.  His  attitude  in  the  past  has  been  that 
of  a  father  of  a  family  of  young  children,  who  re- 
gards each  new  arrival  as  a  source  of  additional 
expense  and  responsibility. 


2  Australian  Life 

In  the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
however,  a  new  era  was  inaugurated,  when  the 
importance  of  the  many  colonies  Great  Britain  has 
planted  in  America,  Africa,  and  Australasia  was 
at  last  recognised.  The  problems  of  colonial  life 
are  now  engaging  the  attention  of  the  most 
thoughtful  of  British  statesmen  and  public  offi- 
cials, and  the  study  of  colonial  afifairs  has  already 
shown  that  in  each  of  the  great  British  colonies 
different  circumstances  are  producing  an  entirely 
separate  type  of  over-sea  Briton. 

It  is  well  that  this  fact  should  be  recognised,  if 
the  fabric  of  Empire  now  being  created  is  ever  to 
be  made  complete.  In  a  new  country,  events 
move  with  a  rapidity  bewildering  to  those  born 
and  brought  up  under  settled  and  accepted  con- 
ditions. Ten  years  served  to  convert  Australia 
from  a  collection  of  separate  provinces  into  a  na- 
tion. Not  very  long  ago  it  was  the  custom  to 
write  of  the  Australian  as  an  exiled  Briton,  who 
jealously  maintained  British  customs  and  tradi- 
tions in  his  new  environment,  and  always  spoke 
of  the  British  Isles  as  "home,"  Observers  who 
obtained  their  information  concerning  Australia 
during  visits  paid  to  the  chief  Australian  cities, 
or  while  enjoying  the  delightful  hospitality  of 
some  large  and  prosperous  Australian  station, 
were  induced  to  regard  this  as  an  established  state 
of  affairs,  rather  than  an  interesting  phase  in  the 
development  of  a  new  community.  They  lost 
sight  of  the  fact  that  a  native-born  race  was  grow- 


Country  and  Climate  3 

ing  up,  to  whom  many  of  the  British  customs 
would  be  traditions  instead  of  things  remembered 
with  sentimental  pleasure,  and  that  to  the  suc- 
ceeding generation  even  the  traditions  would  be 
lost. 

For  instance,  the  Englishman  born  celebrated 
Christmas  Day  in  Australia  in  the  good  old-fash- 
ioned style,  with  a  smoking  hot  joint,  and  an 
abundance  of  rich  puddings  and  pies.  His  Aus- 
tralian-born son  in  many  cases  maintained  the 
custom,  although  fully  alive  to  the  absurdity  of 
such  fare  at  a  season  when  the  thermometer  stands 
at  more  than  one  hundred  in  the  shade.  The 
present-day  Australian  may  often  be  found  spend- 
ing his  Christmas  Day  in  some  shady  fern-tree 
gully,  clad  in  the  easiest  of  clothes,  and  with 
everything  as  cool  as  it  is  possible  to  be  made. 
The  Australian  climate  renders  the  English 
Christmas  festivities  practicall}^  impossible.  In 
the  same  way  many  other  customs  carried  from 
Great  Britain  to  Australia  by  the  pioneers  of  the 
new  race  have  been  modified  by  conditions  against 
which  the  first-comers  struggled,  but  which  their 
grandchildren  accept  as  part  of  their  everyday  life. 

For  this  reason,  any  one  seeking  to  make  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Australian  life  of  the  present 
day  must  bear  in  mind  that  it  has  essentially 
changed  during  the  past  twenty  years,  and  that 
in  another  quarter  of  a  century  it  will  probably 
have  advanced  yet  another  stage  in  its  evolution. 
The  chief  factors  conducing  to  this  evolution  are 


4  Australian  Life 

the  nature  of  the  Australian  continent  itself,  its 
isolation  in  the  Southern  seas,  its  climate,  and  the 
peculiar  conditions  under  which  it  was  colonised. 

It  is  necessary  to  conceive  of  Australia  not  as 
a  colony  containing  a  population  equal  to  little 
more  than  one  half  the  number  of  inhabitants  of 
the  city  of  London,  but  as  an  immense  continent, 
three  million  square  miles  in  extent.  Compared 
to  other  continents,  which  have  their  coast  lines 
indented  by  huge  gulfs,  and  which  push  great 
peninsulas  out  into  the  ocean,  Australia  is  a  sin- 
gularly solid  piece  of  land.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  its 
coast  line  is  smaller  in  proportion  to  its  area  than 
that  of  any  other  continent.  The  physical  con- 
tour of  the  continent  is  remarkable  for  the  same 
monotony.  Its  surface  is,  broadly  speaking,  a 
graduated  system  of  immense  plateaux  and  plains. 
The  one  striking  feature  in  Australian  orography 
is  a  strip  of  highland  running  from  north  to 
south  along  the  eastern  coast.  These  highlands, 
which  separate  the  coastal  plains  and  valleys  from 
the  immense  level  interior  of  the  continent,  bear 
the  general  name  of  the  Dividing  Range.  In  the 
south-eastern  corner  of  Australia,  this  range  bends 
westward,  traversing  the  whole  state  of  Victoria 
and  ending  near  the  eastern  border  of  South  Aus- 
tralia. It  is  in  the  south-eastern  corner  that  the 
Dividing  Range  attains  its  greatest  altitude,  sev- 
eral peaks  of  the  Australian  Alps  being  over  seven 
thousand  feet  in  height. 

The  eastern  portion  of  Australia  consists,  then. 


Country  and  Climate  5 

first,  of  a  coastal  strip,  backed  by  a  mountain 
range,  beyond  which  a  plateau  gradually  declines 
to  the  low-lying  central  plains.  The  western  di- 
vision of  Australia,  a  large  part  of  which  is  still 
practically  unknown  country,  may  also  be  de- 
scribed as  a  low  plateau,  broken  here  and  there  by 
well-marked  mountain  ranges  of  no  great  height. 

Considerable  prominence  has  been  given  to  the 
position  and  character  of  the  Dividing  Range,  be- 
cause of  its  influence  upon  the  climate  of  Australia. 
The  chief  rain-bearing  winds,  blowing  from  the 
eastward  and  meeting  these  highlands,  provide 
the  coastal  districts  with  a  plentiful  rainfall.  Be- 
yond them  the  rainfall  is  scanty  and  irregular, 
growing  less  in  proportion  to  the  distance  from 
the  eastern  coast.  Hence  the  interior  of  Australia 
suffers  from  dryness.  The  average  rainfall  of 
more  than  half  the  continent  is  less  than  twenty 
inches  a  j^ear,  and  for  the  greater  part  of  this  area 
an  annual  rainfall  of  ten  inches  and  under  is  cus- 
tomary in  ordinary  seasons.  As  the  evaporation 
caused  by  the  sun's  heat  is  very  great  in  Central 
Australia,  it  is  obvious  that  the  normal  condition 
of  the  soil  there  must  be  one  of  extreme  aridity. 

The  Dividing  Range  is  naturally  the  main 
watershed  of  the  continent.  The  rivers  flowing 
to  the  eastern  coast  are  necessarily  short,  but  some 
of  them  are  of  considerable  volume  and  depth. 
Of  those  flowing  westward,  the  most  important  is 
the  Murray,  which  enters  the  sea  through  a  large 
shallow  lake  in  South  Australia.    This  river,  with 


6  Australian  Life 

its  tributaries,  the  Darling  and  the  Murrumbid- 
gee,  forms  the  most  considerable  waterway  of 
Australia,  opening  up  part  of  the  interior  to  river 
vessels  of  shallow  draught.  Other  rivers  flowing 
westward,  such  as  the  Diamantina  and  the  Bar- 
coo,  lose  themselves  in  the  sands  of  Central  Aus- 
tralia, or  trickle  into  the  salt  lakes  of  the  interior. 
In  the  dry  season,  they  can  hardly  be  termed 
rivers,  being  rather  a  series  of  water-holes,  con- 
nected by  a  dry  stream-bed.  But  when  fed  by 
the  tropical  rains  of  a  wet  season,  these  rivers  dis- 
charge immense  volumes  of  water,  sometimes 
overflowing  their  banks  and  flooding  large  tracts 
of  country. 

When  the  contrast  between  coastal  Australia 
and  the  interior  is  considered, —  the  one  district 
well  watered  and  possessing  rivers  navigable,  al- 
though short,  while  the  other  is  arid  and  flat,  and 
lacks  rivers  communicating  with  the  sea, —  it  is 
not  surprising  to  find  that  the  population  remains 
in  the  coastal  districts.  There  are  less  than  four 
million  people  in  the  whole  continent,  and  more 
than  four-fifths  of  them  reside  within  a  hundred 
miles  of  the  coast.  The  centres  of  settlement, 
dotted  around  the  coast,  are  necessarily  far  apart, 
for  as  the  country  was  settled,  it  was  split  into  a 
number  of  states  for  the  purpose  of  government. 
Each  of  these  states — until  the  Federation,  which 
began  with  the  present  century — was  concerned 
solely  with  its  own  aff"airs,  and  in  each  of  them 
there  grew  up  one  centre  of  population  and  trade. 


Country  and  Climate  7 

These  state  capitals  are  all  seaport  towns,  and 
iTom  them  have  been  constructed  railways,  ex- 
tending throughout  the  coastal  districts,  and  in 
some  cases  far  into  the  interior.  The  coastal  dis- 
tricts are  largely  agricultural,  and  contain  smaller 
towns  which  are  farming  centres.  The  interior — 
the  "  back  country,"  as  it  is  sometimes  called — is 
given  up  to  grazing.  The  grazing  areas,  called 
"runs"  in  Australia,  vary  in  size,  some  of  those 
in  the  more  remote  districts  equalling  the  extent 
of  one  of  the  smaller  English  counties. 

The  Australian,  it  will  be  seen,  dwells  either  in 
the  large  state  capital,  which  acts  as  the  sole  trade 
outlet  and  inlet  to  the  whole  state  ;  or  in  the  agri- 
cultural districts  immediatelj'^  behind  the  coast ;  or 
in  the  back  country,  given  up  to  grazing.  The 
Australian  of  the  cities  speaks  of  the  rest  of  his 
continent  as  "  the  bush."  The  dwellers  in  the 
agricultural  country  speak  of  the  district  further 
inland  as  the  ' '  back  country. ' '  Those  themselves 
in  the  back  country  have  behind  them  a  land, 
partly  unknown,  and  therefore  attractive  to  the 
adventurous,  which  they  call  the  ' '  Never-Never 
Land." 

It  has  often  been  declared  that  the  distinctive 
characteristic  of  the  bush  is  its  monotony.  Flat 
or  gently  undulating  land,  dotted  with  trees 
nearly  all  belonging  to  the  same  family,  and  pre- 
senting a  uniform  dark  green  hue  to  the  eye,  ex- 
tends for  hundreds  of  miles.  The  trees  are  not 
so  close  together  as  to  prevent  the  grass  from 


8  Australian  Life 

flourishing  on  the  plain  beneath  them,  and  there 
is  little  or  no  undergrowth.  The  best  of  this 
country  has  been  not  inaptly  compared  to  the 
park  land  of  one  of  the  flatter  English  counties. 

This  is  a  common  aspect  of  the  bush,  but  it  is 
only  one  aspect,  and  the  bush  has  many.  There 
are  Australians  to  whom  the  word  recalls  the 
picture  of  a  roaring  mountain  stream  of  cold,  clear 
water.  The  banks  are  carpeted  knee-deep  with 
maiden-hair  and  coral  fern,  and  out  of  this  tender 
green  rise  the  velvety  brown  boles  of  the  tree 
ferns,  each  crowned  with  its  wide  circle  of  broad 
fronds.  Above  the  tree  ferns  trembles  the  grace- 
ful feathery  foliage  of  the  sassafras,  and  higher 
than  the  sassafras  grows  the  myrtle,  most  shapely 
of  all  Australian  trees.  From  this  tangle  of 
forest  and  fern,  the  tall  mountain  ashes  rear  their 
smooth  grey  columns,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  of 
straight  timber  before  the  first  branch.  The  air 
is  sweet  with  the  scent  of  fragrant  meadow  plants, 
and  from  the  thicket  close  at  hand  there  comes 
the  long-drawn  note  of  the  whip  bird,  with  its 
curious  and  startling  staccato  ending.  Some- 
where in  the  distance  the  lyre  bird  is  imitating 
all  the  sounds  of  the  forest,  now  fluting  like  a 
magpie,  and  anon  warbling  like  a  whole  chorus 
of  wrens.  This  is  the  bush  in  one  of  its  most 
gracious  aspects. 

Fifty  miles  nearer  the  coast,  the  mountain  stream 
has  become  a  brimming  river,  winding  through 
fertile  valleys  and  broad  sunlit  plains.     Its  banks 


Country  and  Climate  9 

are  lined  with  groves  of  pleasant  wattles,  that  are 
covered  in  the  early  spring  with  a  garment  of 
yellow  blossoms,  so  fragrant  that  the  warm 
breezes  carry  their  message  to  the  distant  city,  and 
men  there  know  that  winter  has  now  become 
spring  again.  Between  the  river  and  the  distant 
blue  hills,  the  grassy  meadows  are  unbroken  by 
any  tree,  save  the  clumps  of  lightwoods,  with 
thick  and  shining  foliage.  These  cast  across  the 
grass  a  welcome  shadow,  in  which  the  sheep  and 
cattle  cluster  as  the  sun  grows  warm.  From  the 
distance,  blue  hills  beckon  invitingly,  but  viewed 
close  at  hand,  they  are  forbidding  and  desolate. 
The  soil  is  hard  and  stony,  and  nourishes  only  a 
coarse,  scanty  grass,  with  a  few  bristling  thorny 
shrubs  here  and  there.  The  trees  are  twisted  and 
stunted,  and  their  trunks  are  clad  in  a  rough, 
coarse  bark  that  hangs  from  them  in  long  untidy 
strips.  There  is  no  pleasant  stream  to  be  found 
here:  one  walks  for  miles  only  to  find  the  ground 
growing  harder  and  stonier,  and  the  undergrowth 
scantier  and  less  attractive.  A  bush  fire  swept 
down  this  range  the  summer  before  last,  as  the 
bare  branches  of  the  trees  and  their  blackened 
trunks  bear  witness.  Near  the  trunks  there  is  a 
fringe  of  fresh  green  foliage,  out  of  which  the 
skeleton  branches  protrude  most  uncompromis- 
ingly. It  is  not  cheerful  or  inviting,  but  the  bush 
holds  scenes  that  are  sterner  still. 

fThere  are  wastes  of  sand  hummocks,  with  crest 
and  hollow  as  regular  as  the  wave  and  trough  of 


lo  Australian  Life 

the  ocean.  Over  all  these  wastes  grows  nothing 
but  the  stiff  spinifex  grass,  recognised  as  an  unfail- 
ing sign  of  barren  land.  That  country  is  dreary  and 
monotonous  beyond  conception,  but  not  so  chilling 
as  the  mysterious  dead  forests,  where  the  trees 
have  long  ago  parted  with  every  sign  of  leaf  or 
bark,  and  stand  with  white,  palsied  trunks  and 
gnarled  limbs  writhing  into  all  fantastic  imagery. 
In  the  daytime,  they  are  gaunt  and  forbidding, 
but  seen  in  the  white  light  of  an  Australian  moon, 
when  the  wailing  cry  of  the  curlew  is  never  silent, 
they  fill  the  soul  with  a  profound  melancholy. ' 

The  broad  Western  plains  are  more  cheerful, 
with  their  clumps  of  drooping  myalls,  that  glisten 
like  silver  when  the  wind  stirs  their  leaves.  The 
grey  salt  bush  that  covers  the  plain  is  not  attrac- 
tive to  the  eye,  but  it  has  the  merit  of  being  use- 
ful. There  are  other  plains,  where  neither  tree, 
bush,  nor  herb  covers  the  nakedness  of  the  red 
soil,  and  where  the  wind  comes  heralded  by  a 
cloud  of  dust  that  settles  on  everything,  choking 
the  dry  creek-beds,  drifting  over  fences  and  even 
buildings,  and  smothering  the  whole  world  v»^ith 
its  effacing  redness.  To  the  Australian,  it  is  all 
the  bush.  The  mangrove  swamps  and  dense 
tropical  forests  of  the  North,  the  tracts  of  giant 
timber  in  South-western  Australia,  the  "scrub" 
wastes  of  the  interior  where  nothing  can  live,  all 
go  to  make  up  the  bush^ 

The  occupation  of  the  interior  began  early  in 
the  nineteenth  century,  with  the  arrival  of  the 


Country  and  Climate  n 

free  settlers.  Convict  stations  had  been  estab- 
lished on  the  coast,  and  free  men  had  only  been 
too  glad  to  escape  the  convict  taint  by  pushing 
across  the  Dividing  Range,  where  the  early  ex- 
plorers had  found  passes  through  the  hills  to  the 
good  land  beyond.  The  wisdom  of  Captain  Mac- 
arthur,  who  provided  the  new  country  with  a 
breed  of  sheep  bearing  the  finest  wool,  was  justified 
by  the  reputation  gained  by  Australian  merino 
wool  in  the  markets  of  the  Motherland.  There 
was  plenty  of  room  for  all  while  the  foundations 
of  the  great  pastoral  industry,  Australia's  sole  re- 
source until  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
were  being  laid.  Then  came  the  discovery  of  the 
gold,  which  attracted  throngs  of  enterprising  and 
adventurous  men  to  Australia.  In  those  stirring 
times,  the  coastal  cities  began  to  expand:  their 
harbours  were  full  of  shipping,  and  their  streets 
were  crowded  with  newcomers.  These  spread 
over  the  face  of  the  land,  passing  from  one  newly 
discovered  goldfield  to  another,  everywhere  form- 
ing fresh  settlements.  When  the  gold  fever 
abated,  many  of  them  reverted  to  their  original 
occupations,  while  others  obtained  grants  of  land 
from  the  Government,  and  occupied  themselves 
with  farming  and  pastoral  pursuits. 

Thus  Australia  obtained  population,  but  with 
the  decline  of  the  goldfields  came  the  discovery 
that  farming  did  not  pay.  The  farmers  suffered 
from  the  want  of  a  large  local  market,  and  from 
the  isolated  position  of  Australia,  which  at  that 


12  Australian  Life 

time  rendered  the  export  of  farm  produce  of  a 
perishable  nature  ahnost  an  impossibility.  The 
pastoralist,  with  his  wide  expanses  of  grazing 
land  and  inexpensive  methods,  could  pay  freights 
to  the  Old  World  on  his  wool  and  tallow  and  still 
flourish.  It  was  not  so  with  the  agriculturist, 
who  found  the  markets  glutted  with  the  perish- 
able products  of  his  farm,  while  wheat-growing 
Russia  and  America  possessed  advantages  of  po- 
sition which  left  him  unable  to  compete  with 
them.  In  these  circumstances,  some  of  the  Aus- 
tralian States  initiated  a  policy  of  protective  tariflfs, 
designed  to  hasten  that  stage  of  national  develop- 
ment when  the  manufacture  of  the  raw  products 
of  the  country  should  be  localised.  The  immedi- 
ate result  of  this  policy  was  a  further  accession  of 
population  to  the  capital  cities,  where  the  new 
factories  were  established. 

The  last  phase  in  Australian  development  is  the 
result  of  the  improvement  which  has  taken  place 
in  the  arrangement  for  the  transport  of  perishable 
goods  in  a  refrigerated  condition.  The  cold 
chamber  and  the  cold-storage  depot  have  turned 
the  thoughts  of  Australians  to  dairying,  fruit 
growing,  and  poultry  farming,  and  have  created 
a  new  demand  for  agricultural  land. 

It  is  my  task  to  sketch  the  conditions  of  Austral- 
ian life  at  this  stage  in  the  history  of  the  conti- 
nent. I  have  aready  indicated  the  size  and 
importance  of  the  Australian  capital  cities,  from 
which  the  visitor  to  Australia  gains  the  most  last- 


Country  and  Climate  13 

ing  impression  of  the  Antipodes.  Those  cities 
have  been  frequently  described  as  British  cities, 
planted  in  more  genial  climate  and  under  more 
favourable  circumstances.  There  are  no  essential 
differences  between  the  mode  of  life  of  a  citizen  of 
Sydney  and  a  citizen  of  lyiverpool,  although  in 
many  minor  details  interesting  distinctions  may  be 
observed.  But  in  the  bush,  a  new  type  of  Briton 
with  distinctive  faculties  and  characteristics  has 
already  been  evolved.  The  men  who  live  on  the 
land  are  the  typical  Australians,  and  the  courage 
and  endurance  with  which  they  face  the  hardships 
and  uncertainties  of  their  life  provide  the  brightest 
promise  for  the  future  of  the  new  nation. 


CHAPTER  II 

SQUATTERS  AND  STATIONS 

THE  men  who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  pas- 
toral industry  were  trespassers  in  the  eyes  of 
the  law.  They  wanted  the  right  to  run  their 
stock  on  large  areas  of  land,  transferring  them 
from  place  to  place  as  pasturage  and  water  failed. 
They  could  not  by  any  possibility  purchase  so 
much  land  as  they  required  for  this  purpose,  and 
the  terms  on  which  they  could  obtain  leasehold 
rights  were  prohibitive.  They  therefore  occupied 
the  land  without  possessing  any  authority  to  do 
so,  and  thus  obtained  their  name  of  "  squatters." 
The  importance  to  the  new  colony  of  the  wool 
they  produced  preserved  them  from  interference, 
and  in  time,  their  position  was  recognised  by  the 
introduction  of  a  system  dividing  the  back  coun- 
try into  "  pastoral  districts,"  which  might  be  oc- 
cupied on  the  payment  of  a  reasonable  yearly 
rental.  No  fence  marked  the  boundar}'-  of  the 
early  squatter's  run.  The  fixing  of  such  a  limit 
was  often  a  matter  of  arrangement  with  the 
nearest  neighbour,  distant  a  long  day's  ride  on 
horseback.  Just  as  often,  the  squatter  was  in 
14 


Squatters  and  Stations  15 

undisputed  possession  of  a  district  more  than  large 
enough  for  his  flocks  and  herds,  which  were  trans- 
ferred from  one  spot  to  another,  wherever  abun- 
dance of  food  or  water  might  be  found.  Each 
flock  was  in  charge  of  a  shepherd,  whose  duty  it 
was  to  keep  the  sheep  within  certain  limits,  and 
to  guard  the  lambs  from  their  worst  enemy,  the 
dingo,  or  wild  dog.  The  shepherd  lived  the  life 
of  a  hermit,  probably  seeing  no  human  being  ex- 
cept the  man  who  brought  him  his  stores  of  tea 
and  flour  from  the  head  station  at  fixed  periods, 
and  relying  for  company  upon  his  dogs.  There 
was  no  talk  of  overstocking  in  those  days.  In 
bad  seasons,  the  stock  were  moved  to  new  pas- 
tures, hitherto  untouched,  and  in  good  years  they 
rioted  in  the  superabundant  pastures. 

Prices  for  Australian  wool  ruled  high,  and  the 
squatters  prospered  until  the  very  mention  of  the 
word  came  to  suggest  the  possession  of  wealth. 
Who  has  not  heard  of  the  wool  "kings"  of  Aus- 
tralia ?  They  had  their  town  mansions  standing 
in  spacious  grounds  and  occupying  the  most  desir- 
able situations  in  the  best  suburbs  of  Sydney  and 
Melbourne.  With  princely  disregard  of  cost, 
they  erected  dwellings  on  their  runs,  designed  to 
afibrd  their  occupiers  the  maximum  of  comfort 
and  to  neutralise  the  more  unpleasant  conditions  of 
the  Australian  climate.  They  kept  racing  studs, 
drove  four-in-hand  drags,  and  entertained  chance 
visitors  with  a  liberality  so  open-handed  that 
Australian  hospitality  obtained  a  well-deserved 


1 6  Australian  Life 

reputation  in  the  Old  World.  There  is  a  true 
story  told  of  a  young  squatter  who,  to  provide 
for  the  comfort  of  his  guests  in  hot  weather,  had 
two  tons  of  ice  packed  in  new  blankets  and 
despatched  from  Sydney.  On  its  arrival  at  the 
railway  terminus,  the  ice  was  transferred  to  a 
teamster's  waggon,  and  a  journey  of  two  hundred 
miles  under  a  hot  sun  so  reduced  its  bulk  that 
only  a  few  small  blocks  reached  their  destination; 
yet  with  this  return  for  his  very  expensive  experi- 
ment, the  squatter  professed  himself  more  than 
satisfied. 

In  time,  the  demand  for  pastoral  holdings 
caused  boundaries  to  be  strictly  defined,  and  runs 
had  to  be  fenced.  The  increase  of  his  flocks  and 
the  limitation  of  his  runs  caused  the  squatter  to 
feel  the  pressure  of  those  dry  seasons  when  stock 
dies  from  want  of  food  and  water.  The  throwing 
open  of  the  pastoral  districts  to  the  "selector" 
struck  another  blow  at  the  prosperity  of  the 
squatter,  as  we  shall  presently  see.  Then  came 
the  plague  of  rabbits,  devouring  the  grass,  and 
leading  to  legislation  which  involved  the  pas- 
toralist  in  heavy  expense  for  rabbit  extermination. 
Squatting  was  no  longer  a  sure  road  to  fortune, 
but  a  speculative  undertaking,  the  squatter  being 
dependent  upon  the  uncertain  rainfall  and  the 
fickle  climate  for  his  profits.  Such  is  the  position 
of  some  of  the  pastoralists  at  the  present  time. 
Many  of  the  descendants  of  the  squatting  pio- 
neers,   it   is   true,    have    inherited   holdings   in 


HEAD  OF  FRESHWATER  RIVER,  NATIONAL  PARK. 


Squatters  and  Stations  17 

favoured  localities  where  the  rainfall  is  regular 
and  the  pasturage  abundant.  Long  experience 
has  shown  how  these  stations  can  be  managed  to 
the  best  advantage,  and,  in  many  cases,  they 
yield  their  owners  large  incomes  even  in  the  worst 
seasons. 

On  one  of  these  stations,  pastoral  life  may  be 
seen  at  its  best,  and  I  propose  to  describe  a  typi- 
cal one,  situated  in  the  Riverina  district  of  New 
South  Wales.  The  "run"  consists  of  a  triangle 
of  land  enclosed  by  two  streams,  the  confluence 
of  which  on  their  way  to  the  river  Darling  forms 
the  apex  of  a  triangle.  The  third  boundary,  the 
base  of  the  triangle,  is  a  well-made  public  road. 
The  run  itself  is  fe«ced  off  from  the  road  by  a 
stout  three-railed  fence,  and  is  divided  into  pad- 
docks by  similar  fences,  or  lighter  ones  made  of 
wire  stretched  through  posts.  A  white  gate  on 
the  boundary  fence  marks  the  drive  leading  from 
the  public  road  through  the  run,  and  a  similar 
gate  at  each  subdivisional  fence  points  its  course 
to  the  homestead.  The  homestead  itself  is  a  sub- 
stantial house  of  stone,  built  after  the  fashion  of  a 
bungalow,  with  only  one  stor>',  and  a  broad  ve- 
randa running  around  three  sides  of  it.  Grape- 
vines and  passion-flower  shade  the  veranda,  and 
the  front  of  the  house  looks  over  a  spacious  gar- 
den and  orchard,  with  a  thick  hedge  of  quince 
trees.  On  the  veranda  are  easy-chairs  and 
lounges,  and  a  table  strewn  with  the  latest  Eng- 
lish magazines  as  well  as  the  admirable  weekly 


1 8  Australian  Life 

papers  that  are  a  feature  of  Australian  journalism. 
The  windows  run  down  to  the  floor  ;  the  doorway- 
is  wide  and  inviting,  and  opens  to  a  spacious  cool- 
tiled  hall.  On  one  side  is  a  drawing-room,  with 
grand  piano,  polished  floor,  and  Persian  rugs ; 
water-colours  are  on  the  walls  and  large  mirrors, 
all  in  the  best  of  modern  taste.  On  the  other  side 
is  a  dining-room,  large  and  handsomely  furnished, 
and  behind  it  a  cheerful  morning-room,  with  the 
newest  novels  lining  the  book-shelf  and  the  latest 
music  on  the  upright  piano.  Bedrooms,  cool  and 
airy,  open  on  to  the  wide  veranda,  but  to  see  the 
kitchen  and  laundry^,  it  is  necessary  to  pass  to  a 
group  of  detached  buildings  in  the  rear.  Here, 
too,  are  the  quarters  occupied  by  the  bachelors, — of 
whom  more  will  presently  be  told, — and  the  school- 
room, which  also  serves  as  concert-hall  and  chapel. 
One  side  of  the  veranda  overlooks  a  large  lake 
of  fresh  water,  formed  by  damming  the  course  of 
one  of  the  boundary  streams.  Flocks  of  wild 
swan  and  ducks  feed  in  it  undisturbed,  and  even 
shyer  water  fowl,  such  as  the  ibis  and  pelican, 
may  often  be  observed  upon  it.  From  this  lake, 
an  ingeniously  contrived  windmill  raises  water  to 
the  level  of  an  elevated  platform,  on  which,  pro- 
tected by  a  roof  of  thick  wooden  shingles,  are  a 
number  of  iron  tanks.  From  this  reservoir,  pipes 
conduct  the  water  throughout  the  house  and 
garden.  From  the  other  side  of  the  house  may 
be  seen  the  wool-shed,  a  long  building  of  wood 
with  a  galvanised-  iron  roof.     Except  at  shearing 


Squatters  and  Stations  19 

time,  the  shed  is  empty  and  silent.  At  one  end 
are  the  great  wool  press  and  the  bins  of  the  wool- 
classers,  while  at  the  shearing-board  that  runs 
along  both  sides  of  the  shed  may  be  inspected  the 
apparatus  of  the  sheep-shearing  machine,  the  in- 
vention of  Lord  Wesley's  brother. 

A  ride  around  the  run  reveals  signs  of  careful 
management  everywhere.  Each  paddock  con- 
tains its  flocks  of  carefully  graded  sheep  :  in  one 
are  wethers  of  a  certain  age,  and  in  another  ewes. 
The  stud  flock  occupies  a  domain  of  its  own,  and 
there  is  a  special  paddock  for  the  horses  and  an- 
other for  the  cows.  On  the  flats  near  the  creek, 
a  heavy  crop  of  the  forage  plant  Alfalfa  is  being 
grown  under  irrigation.  It  will  presently  be  cut 
and  converted  into  ensilage  as  a  precaution 
against  drought. 

The  permanent  staff  attached  to  the  station 
seems  disproportionately  small  when  compared  to 
its  size  and  the  numbers  of  the  flocks  it  supports. 
The  owner  takes  an  active  interest  in  his  property 
and  spends  a  considerable  portion  of  each  year 
there,  bringing  his  life-long  experience  to  bear 
upon  the  more  important  details  of  management. 
Should  he  be  absent  in  town,  his  place  is  taken  by 
one  of  his  sons,  who  has  possibly  spent  his  whole 
life  on  the  station,  with  the  exception  of  a  year  or 
two  at  a  public  school  in  Sydney  or  Melbourne, 
which  is  held  to  complete  the  education  begun  by 
a  tutor.  The  administration  of  the  station  is  in 
the  hands  of  an  experienced  manager,  who,  with 


20  Australian  Life 

his  wife  and  family,  lives  in  a  pleasant  cottage 
near  the  homestead.  Under  his  supervision  are 
the  bachelors,  or  jackaroos,  as  they  are  usually 
called  in  the  language  of  the  bush.  The  jackaroos 
on  such  a  station  as  I  am  describing  are  often 
young  men  of  education  and  some  position,  who, 
having  chosen  the  pastoral  life  as  a  career,  are 
gaining  the  necessary  experience.  Some  of  them 
are  "new  chums,"  born  and  brought  up  in  Great 
Britain,  and  now  making  their  first  acquaintance 
with  Australian  manners  and  customs.  The 
jackaroo  is  the  victim  of  all  the  practical  jokes, 
and  the  central  figure  in  many  of  the  yarns  told 
in  the  men's  quarters.  One  of  the  best-known 
jackaroo  stories  relates  to  the  experiences  of  two 
fresh-complexioned  new  chums,  newly  arrived 
at  an  Australian  sheep-run  with  a  whole  cart-load 
of  luggage,  including  a  complete  armoury  of 
weapons.  They  had  been  much  disappointed  at 
the  scarcity  of  game,  both  furred  and  feathered, 
and  had  begun  to  despair  of  finding  anything  to 
shoot.  Their  hopes,  however,  were  revived  by  a 
conversation  overheard  between  a  bearded  horse- 
man and  the  station  cook,  as  follows  : 

Cook:  "Hullo!" 

The  Bearded  One  :  "Hullo  !  " 

Cook :  "Anything  fresh  ?  " 

The  Bearded  One:  "Nothin'  much."  {A 
pause.')  "I  just  saw  that  {adjcctive~)  jackaroo 
down  by  the  water-hole  again. ' '  (^Another pause.') 
"Well,  so  long!" 


Squatters  and  Stations  21 

Cook:  "So  long  !" 

But  the  new  chums  had  heard  enough.  They 
hastily  put  their  guns  together,  and  crept  down 
to  the  water-hole,  where  they  found  a  young  man 
of  their  own  type,  though  not  quite  so  fresh  as  to 
the  complexion,  sitting  on  a  log  holding  his  head 
in  his  hands,  and  groaning.  The  sportsmen 
determined  to  question  him. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  the  spokesman,  "have  you 
seen  anything  of  a  jackaroo  about  here?" 

' '  What  the  blazes  has  that  got  to  do  with  you  ?  ' ' 
demanded  the  man  on  the  log,  glaring  at  them. 

"Oh,  nothing,  only  we  are  trying  to  get  a  shot 
at  it." 

The  jackaroo  obtains  practical  experience  of 
station  life  by  performing  all  the  multifarious  and 
unpleasant  tasks  that  come  to  hand.  He  learns 
to  ride,  if  he  has  not  previously  acquired  that  ac- 
complishment, and  to  work  cheerfully  all  day 
under  a  broiling  Australian  sun.  Under  a  good 
manager,  he  rapidly  obtains  a  mastery  of  all  the 
details  connected  with  the  management  of  flocks, 
and,  in  time,  he  may  himself  become  manager  of 
a  station,  or,  if  he  can  control  the  necessary 
capital,  may  stock  a  run  on  his  own  account. 

On  a  run  divided  into  paddocks  after  the  fash- 
ion described  above,  no  shepherds  are  required, 
but  there  will  be  one  or  two  boundary  riders, 
whose  business  it  is  to  see  that  there  are  no  gaps 
in  the  fences.  Each  day  the  boundary  rider  visits 
a  different  part  of  the  run,   and  reports  to  the 


22  Australian  Life 

manager  upon  the  state  of  the  fences,  the  amount 
of  water  in  the  water-holes,  and  the  general  con- 
dition of  that  portion  of  the  run.  Every  station 
has  its  cook,  generally  a  man,  and  sometimes  a 
Chinaman.  In  his  kitchen  is  a  large  brick  oven 
for  the  baking  of  bread  and  "brownie,"  the  latter 
a  station  delicacy  made  by  mixing  brown  sugar 
and  currants  with  the  bread  dough.  A  large 
colonial  oven,  with  wood  fire  on  top  and  beneath 
it,  is  used  for  roasting,  and  no  station  kitchen  is 
complete  without  a  mighty  frying-pan,  for  the 
preparation  of  the  inevitable  fried  chops  which 
are  the  staple  station  fare. 

Another  important  person  on  the  station  is  the 
storekeeper,  who  is  usually  bookkeeper  as  well. 
The  station  store  is  an  interesting  place,  contain- 
ing a  little  of  everything,  from  spare  parts  of  the 
sheep- shearing  machinery  and  fencing  wire  down 
to  slop-made  clothes  and  tobacco.  The  store 
transactions  are  sometimes  complicated,  for  they 
include  the  issue  of  clothing  and  tobacco  to  the 
hands  as  part  of  the  wages  earned,  and  also  the 
issue  of  flour  or  tea,  according  to  the  bush  system 
which  is  explained  elsewhere,  to  the  swagmen 
who  may  call.  The  storekeeper  keeps  the  wages 
book,  issues  groceries  and  other  supplies  to  the 
cook,  and  exercises  a  general  supervision  over  the 
domestic  expenditure.  There  are  usually  a  few 
"  station  hands  "  in  permanent  employment,  in  ad- 
dition to  those  already  enumerated,  but  not  very 
many.     It  is  estimated  that  on  a  well-managed 


Squatters  and  Stations  23 

vStation  one  man  is  employed  for  every  seventy- 
five  hundred  sheep,  an  estimate  which  shows 
that  the  pastoral  industry  provides  permanent 
work  for  a  very  small  number  of  men  proportion- 
ately to  its  importance. 

The  occasional  work  about  a  station,  such  as 
the  erection  of  fencing  or  the  digging  of  water- 
tanks,  is  usually  let  by  contract.  The  men  who 
do  this  work  have  their  own  camp,  and  provide 
for  themselves  without  disturbing  the  economy  of 
the  station,  although  they  may  draw  stores  (such 
as  groceries,  meats,  and  other  supplies)  against 
the  money  they  earn.  For  the  busy  seasons  on  a 
station,  such  as  shearing  time,  numerous  extra 
hands  are  employed,  on  a  system  that  will  pre- 
sently be  explained. 

There  are  many  stations  where  no  sheep  are 
pastured  at  all,  the  whole  run  being  given  up  to 
cattle.  The  largest  of  these  cattle-runs  are  to  be 
found  in  northern  Queensland,  where  it  is  no  un- 
common thing  to  find  a  run  five  thousand  square 
miles  in  extent.  Here  is  bred  the  long-horned 
Australian  bullock,  sullen  and  dangerous,  a  wild 
beast  rather  than  a  domestic  animal.  A  very 
different  kind  of  station  is  this.  The  homestead 
is  a  wooden  building,  with  a  roof  of  galvanised 
iron,  very  hot  in  the  noonday  sun,  but  cooling 
rapidly  when  evening  comes.  It  stands  on  a 
number  of  tall  piles,  and  between  each  pile  and 
the  house  is  a  projecting  tin-plate,  beyond  which 
the  destructive  white  ant  is  unable  to  climb.    Here 


24  Australian  Life 

live  the  manager  and  his  wife,  fifty  miles  away 
from  the  next  station  and  from  any  white  man, 
except  the  two  or  three  white  stockmen  employed 
on  the  run.  They  are  assisted  in  their  work  by 
half  a  score  of  blacks,  two  or  three  of  them 
"gins,"  who  can  ride  or  wield  a  stock  whip  as 
well  as  their  dusky  lords.  A  gin  helps  the  man- 
ager's wife  with  the  domestic  work,  and  the  whole 
company  lives  on  beef  and  bread  from  one  year's 
end  to  the  other.  There  is  no  wool-shed  here, 
only  a  stock-yard  of  solid  timbers,  with  a  brand- 
ing-yard. The  cattle  roam  unchecked,  collecting 
in  mobs  by  a  process  of  natural  selection,  and 
finding  their  own  food  and  water.  The  stockmen 
know  where  each  mob  can  be  found  for  the  peri- 
odical musterings,  when  the  animals  belonging  to 
other  runs,  known  by  the  brands  they  bear,  are 
drafted  out,  and  the  "clean  skins" — unbranded 
stock — are  made  to  feel  the  smart  of  the  branding 
iron.  Young  bullocks  are  culled  from  the  mob 
and  sent  away  to  the  eastern  coasts  or  down 
south,  to  be  fattened  for  market,  and  surplus 
stock  is  driven  off"  to  the  boiling-down  works, 
where  the  beasts  are  converted  into  tallow  and 
beef-extract.  The  life  of  the  cattle-man  is  one 
long  round  of  hardship  and  danger.  No  man, 
not  even  those  brought  up  to  the  life,  can  account 
for  the  lunatic  impulses  to  which  a  mob  of  bul- 
locks is  subject.  Among  stockmen,  the  "  looni- 
ness  "  of  the  bullocks  is  proverbial,  and  in  spite  of 
expert  horsemanship  and  the  marvellous  clever- 


Squatters  and  Stations  25 

ness  of  their  stock-horses,  horse  and  man  some- 
times go  down  before  the  mad  rush  of  some  beast 
seized  with  a  sudden  and  unaccountable  fury. 
When  camped  with  cattle  at  night-time,  the  men 
have  to  be  prepared  for  sudden  stampedes,  which 
the  stockmen  account  for  by  stating  that  bullocks 
see  ghosts. 

The  stockman  himself,  in  his  characteristic 
dress  of  loose  shirt,  tight  riding-breeches,  and 
cabbage-tree  hat,  with  the  long  stock  whip  coiled 
round  his  shoulders,  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
figures  of  the  Australian  bush.  His  usefulness  is 
measured  by  his  horsemanship  and  his  fearless- 
ness among  cattle,  for  unless  he  possesses  both 
these  attributes  in  the  highest  degree,  his  value 
as  a  cattle-man  is  practically  nil. 

Station  life,  however,  is  not  one  long  round  of 
work  and  sleep.  On  a  sheep-station  such  as  I 
have  described,  a  day's  hard  work  in  the  saddle 
ends  with  a  refreshing  shower  bath  and  a  pleasant 
family  dinner.  Sometimes  a  neighbour  drops  in, 
and  after  dinner  the  men  smoke  on  the  cool,  broad 
veranda  in  the  pleasant  dusk.  The  wind  sighs 
through  the  big  she-oaks,  and  from  the  belt  of 
tall  gum  trees  by  the  creeks  comes  the  doleful 
note  of  the  mopoke.  Great  flying-foxes  flap 
silently  down  to  the  peach  trees  in  the  orchard, 
and  tiny  bats  wheel  and  turn  in  the  clear  air, 
hawking  the  plentiful  insects.  One  by  one  the 
stars  come  out,  until  the  violet  sky  blazes  with 
them.  Across  the  lake  the  curlews  are  wailing,  but 


26  Australian  Life 

in  the  drawing-room  the  lamps  are  lighted,  and 
the  cheerful  sound  of  the  piano  invites  an  adjourn- 
ment. For  an  hour  or  two,  possibilities  of  drought 
or  flood  are  forgotten,  and  but  for  the  bronzed 
faces  of  the  men  it  would  be  easy  to  imagine  one's 
self  in  a  city  drawing-room.  The  evening  ends 
at  an  early  hour,  however,  for  work  starts  at  day- 
break upon  an  Australian  station. 

On  Sunday,  Church  service  takes  place  in  the 
schoolroom,  when  the  owner  or  his  representative 
reads  the  prayers,  and  possibly  a  sermon  from  a 
volume  of  some  popular  divine.  When  the  bishop 
or  his  representative  visits  the  station,  the  wool- 
shed  is  converted  into  a  church,  and  visitors  flock 
in  from  every  side.  Neighbouring  selectors  bring 
in  their  children  for  baptism,  and  the  gathering 
is  at  once  a  representative  and  a  friendly  one. 

There  are  gay  seasons  on  a  station,  too,  when 
the  town  mansion  is  deserted,  and  the  whole 
family,  with  town  visitors  as  well,  gathers  in  the 
homestead.  A  round  of  dances  and  picnics  is 
arranged,  and  a  race  meeting,  with  a  race  ball  to 
follow. 

The  race  meeting  is  quite  unlike  anything  of  its 
kind  in  the  cities,  for  it  is  really  a  picnic  on  a 
grand  scale,  with  the  addition  of  horse-racing. 
The  attendance  of  book-makers  is  discouraged  as 
far  as  possible,  and  a  large  proportion  of  the  races 
are  confined  to  amateur  riders.  Among  the  horses 
taking  part  in  the  sport  may  be  seen  some  mag- 
nificent specimens  of  the  thoroughbred,  but  a  con- 


Squatters  and  Stations  27 

dition  is  attached  to  many  at  the  races,  excluding 
stable-fed  horses.  Better  sport  could  not  be  af- 
forded than  the  struggles  between  these  hardy 
grass-fed  "walers,"  many  of  which  have  never 
known  the  shelter  of  a  roof.  No  programme  is 
complete  without  a  race  for  shearers'  horses,  with 
owners  up;  and  though  the  costumes  of  the  riders 
are  unorthodox  to  city  eyes,  close  finishes  and 
skilful  horsemanship  are  the  rule  rather  than  the 
exception. 

Station  life  provides  other  amusement  besides: 
long  drives  through  open  paddocks  and  over 
rough  bush  tracks,  where  the  clear  air  is  aromatic 
with  the  scent  of  the  eucalyptus  and  fragrant  with 
the  perfume  of  the  wattle,  wild  rides  through  the 
scrub  after  dingoes  and  kangaroos,  or  madder 
gallops  still  after  the  long-tailed  wild  horses  that 
shelter  in  the  fastnesses  of  the  hills.  Such  diver- 
sions only  take  place  during  the  intervals  between 
the  busy  seasons.  The  real  life  of  an  Australian 
station  can  best  be  observed,  however,  at  these 
periods  of  activity,  when  numerous  extra  men  are 
employed,  and  the  whole  machinery  of  station  life 
is  working  at  high  pressure. 


CHAPTER  III 


STATION  WORK 


The  bell  is  set  a-ringing,  and  the  engine  gives  a  toot, 
There  's  five  and  thirty  shearers  here  are  shearing  for 

the  loot ; 
So  stir  yourselves,  you  penners-up,  and  shove  the  sheep 

along, 
The  musterers  are  fetching  them,  a  hundred  thousand 

strong. 
Aud  make  your  collie  dogs  speak  up — What  would  the 

buyers  say 
In  London,  if  wool  was  late  this  year  from  Castle- 

reagh  ? 

The  Banjo. 

THE  busiest  time  on  a  sheep-station  is  the  time 
of  shearing,  when  the  annual  stock-taking 
takes  place,  as  well  as  the  shearing  of  the  sheep, 
and  the  sorting  and  despatch  of  the  wool.  For 
some  time  before  the  shearing,  extra  hands  are 
employed,  for  a  good  deal  of  preparation  is  neces- 
sary. The  machinery  of  the  wool-shed  has  to  be 
oiled  and  set  in  order,  firewood  has  to  be  hauled, 
and  all  the  water-tanks  filled.  In  the  paddocks, 
the  flocks  are  being  mustered,  ready  to  be  driven 
to  the  yards  outside  the  wool-shed.  Long  before 
28 


o    .-^ 

CO        -^ 


Station  Work  29 

the  date  fixed  for  commencing  the  actual  work 
of  shearing,  all  is  bustle  and  activity  on  the 
station. 

A  few  days  before  shearing  starts,  the  shearers 
begin  to  arrive.  Some  come  on  horseback,  some 
on  bicycles,  and  a  good  many  on  foot,  carrying 
their  swags  after  the  recognised  bush  fashion. 
The  huts  set  aside  for  their  accommodation  are 
soon  filled  to  overflowing,  and  many  of  them  camp 
under  tents  or  in  the  open.  The  shed  overseer, 
engineer,  wool-classers,  cooks,  and  other  helpers 
have  already  been  engaged,  and  the  roll  of  the 
applicants  for  work  is  called  two  days  before  the 
shearing  starts.  Those  to  be  engaged  as  shearers 
are  first  selected,  and  sign  their  agreements  in  the 
presence  of  the  manager,  shed  overseer,  and  book- 
keeper. Then  a  number  of  wool-pressers  and 
"rouse-abouts"  are  engaged,  the  duties  of  the  lat- 
ter being  elastic  in  the  extreme.  Some  of  them 
are  "pickers-up,"  removing  the  shorn  fleeces 
from  the  shearing-board,  and  keeping  it  clear  for 
the  shearer.  Others  are  employed  in  driving  the 
woolly  sheep  to  the  yard  and  transferring  them 
to  the  pens  inside  the  wool-shed,  in  branding 
shorn  sheep,  in  moving  them  back  to  the  pad- 
dock, and  in  loading  the  waggons  that  carry  the 
wool  away.  When  all  the  men  required  have 
been  engaged,  the  disappointed  ones  roll  their 
swags  and  go  off  in  search  of  employment  some- 
where else. 

Shearing  usually  starts  at  the  end  of  the  week, 


30  Australian  Life 

on  Friday  or  Saturday  for  preference.  The  work 
done  by  the  shearers  in  the  broken  week  is  re- 
garded in  the  light  of  an  "exercise  canter,"  and 
the  Saturday  afternoon  and  Sunday  spell  obviates 
the  danger  of  strained  wrists  and  backs  which 
exists  when  serious  work  is  begun  too  suddenly. 
Shearing  starts  at  six  o'clock,  but  before  day- 
break, the  engine-driver  and  cooks  are  at  work, 
the  former  getting  up  steam  to  drive  the  machines, 
the  latter  preparing  the  coffee  and  buns  with 
which  the  shearers  break  their  fast.  At  six 
o'clock,  everybody  is  in  the  shed,  the  pens  are 
full  of  sheep,  and  the  shearers,  two  to  each  pen, 
stand  on  the  board.  The  engine  whistle  gives  a 
shrill  toot,  the  machinery  is  set  in  motion,  and 
each  shearer  dives  into  the  pen  to  catch  the  sheep 
he  has  selected  as  the  easiest  to  shear.  Grasping 
his  victim  by  the  leg,  the  shearer  drags  it  out  of 
the  pen,  quiets  its  struggles  by  a  deft  application 
of  his  knee,  and  gets  to  work  with  the  shears. 
The  fleece  falls  off  the  animal  in  one  great  piece, 
and  in  a  surprisingly  short  space  of  time  it  is  re- 
leased, pink  and  shivering,  to  make  its  way  along 
the  race  and  out  into  the  yards  again.  The 
pickers-up  fly  to  remove  the  fallen  wool,  and  the 
shearer  plunges  into  the  pen  again  in  search  of 
the  easiest-cutting  animal  left  there.  As  the  pens 
become  emptier,  the  sheep  left  are  harder  to  shear, 
and  the  last  animal  of  all,  called  the  "cobbler," 
is  looked  upon  as  an  object  to  avoid.  If  a  very 
undesirable  specimen,  the  manoeuvres  of  the  two 


Station  Work  31 

shearers  are  amusing,  each  being  anxious  that 
the  "  cobbler  "  shall  fall  to  the  other. 

Up  and  down  the  board  walks  the  shed  over- 
seer, with  an  eye  upon  every  man  there.  He 
sees  that  the  "penners-up"  do  not  leave  a  pen 
empty  for  one  moment,  that  the  pickers-up  are 
keeping  the  board  clear,  and  above  all,  that  the 
shearers  are  doing  their  work  properly.  It  is  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  each  sheep  shall  be 
shorn  closely  and  evenly,  uneven  shearing  result- 
ing in  waste  "tip"  to  the  wool  of  the  next  season. 
The  shearers,  who  are  paid  according  to  the  num- 
ber of  sheep  shorn,  will  scamp  their  work  if  not 
properly  supervised.  The  rivalry  among  them 
is  very  keen,  and  there  is  sometimes  close  compe- 
tition for  the  position  of  "ringer,"  as  the  man 
whose  total  of  shorn  sheep  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  shearing  is  the  highest,  is  called.  Occasion- 
ally a  man  in  his  haste  and  in  his  anxiety  to 
shear  close  will  cut  a  piece  of  skin  from  his 
sheep,  when  a  boy  with  a  pot  of  mixed  tar  and 
grease  will  be  called  to  daub  the  wound  of  the 
suffering  animal.  In  the  old  days  of  hand-shear- 
ing, the  tar  boy's  services  were  more  frequently 
in  requisition  than  under  the  modern  system  of 
machine-shearing,  now  in  vogue  at  all  the  best- 
managed  stations. 

At  eight  o'clock,  work  is  suspended  for  the  first 
of  the  many  meals  the  shearer  manages  to  devour 
during  the  course  of  the  day.  The  shearers'  cook 
is  always  a  competent   man,  and   supplies  his 


32  Australian  Life 

clients  with  the  best  fare  obtainable,  utterly  be- 
lying the  name  of  "poisoner,"  usually  bestowed 
upon  him.  He  has  to  cater  for  a  very  fastidious 
company,  but  he  is  well  paid  for  his  work,  and 
can  afford  to  ignore  a  good  deal  of  captious 
grumbling.  The  shearers  themselves  earn  splen- 
did wages  while  at  work,  the  standard  rate  being 
one  pound  for  each  hundred  sheep  shorn.  A  good 
shearer  can  average  a  hundred  a  day  taking  the 
easy  work  with  the  hard,  and  under  exceptional 
circumstances,  tallies  as  high  as  three  hundred 
in  a  day  have  been  made.  This,  however,  is  a 
notable  piece  of  work,  and  the  names  of  the  men 
who  have  performed  such  exceptional  feats  are 
known  throughout  pastoral  Australia,  "from  the 
Gulf  to  the  Bight."  Even  when  living  upon  all 
the  luxuries  at  his  command,  the  shearer's  ex- 
penditure rarely  exceeds  one  pound  per  week,  so 
that  the  men  usually  have  good  cheques  to  draw 
when  the  shed  has  "cut  out." 

Each  fleece  is  taken  by  the  picker-up  to  the 
table  of  the  wool-roller,  who  trims  it  neatly,  re- 
moving the  dirty  edges,  and  rolls  it  up  for  the  in- 
spection of  the  wool-classer.  This  expert  decides 
on  the  quality  of  the  fleece,  and  places  it  in  one  of 
a  number  of  bins,  each  bearing  a  distinguishing 
letter  denoting  the  quality  of  the  wool  it  contains. 
The  bins  are  from  time  to  time  emptied  by  the 
wool-pressers,  who  bale  the  wool  with  the  aid  of 
the  big  press,  marking  each  bale  with  the  quality 
of  the  wool  and  the  station  brand.     The  bales  are 


Station  Work  33 

loaded  upon  waggons  and  conveyed  to  the  nearest 
railway-station;  or  to  a  river-staging,  where  they 
are  piled  upon  a  barge,  which  is  towed  by  a  little 
side-wheel  steamer  down  to  the  river  Murray. 

The  shorn  sheep  are  counted  and  branded,  and 
in  many  cases  dipped  to  prevent  their  picking  up 
tick  and  other  parasites.  Then  they  are  drafted 
into  classes  and  moved  to  the  paddocks,  where 
they  remain  until  the  time  comes  when  another 
crop  of  wool  has  to  be  shorn  from  them.  By  the 
counting  of  the  sheep,  the  owner  is  able  to  com- 
pare the  numbers  of  his  flock  with  those  ascer- 
tained at  the  previous  shearing,  and  so  to  estimate 
their  rate  of  increase,  or,  as  the  case  has  too  often 
been  of  late  years,  their  rate  of  decrease.  The 
end  of  the  shearing  is  usually  celebrated  by  an 
entertainment,  consisting  of  athletic  sports,  races 
of  the  shearers'  horses  in  the  afternoon,  and  a 
concert  in  the  wool-shed  in  the  evening.  The 
concert  usually  takes  the  form  of  a  burnt-cork  en- 
tertainment with  a  number  of  highly  original  and 
diverting  turns  thrown  in.  Some  of  the  shearers 
are  masters  of  most  curious  accomplishments,  such 
as  axe-swinging  and  bell-ringing.  I  once  heard 
a  man  play  a  number  of  tunes  upon  a  row  of 
billy-cans  of  different  sizes,  each  containing  a  cer- 
tain quantity  of  water,  the  notes  being  sounded 
by  tapping  the  cans  with  a  small  wooden  hammer. 
An  invariable  feature  of  these  entertainments  is  a 
collection,  the  proceeds  being  devoted  to  the  bene- 
fit of  the  nearest  hospital,  and  the  shearer,  flush 


34  Australian  Life 

with  money  at  such  a  time,  seldom  fails  to  con- 
tribute liberally.  When  shearing  is  over,  the  men 
are  paid  their  cheques,  and  the  station  reverts  to  its 
normal  condition  and  regular  daily  round  of  work. 
The  busy  time  on  a  cattle-station  is  the  general 
muster,  a  time  of  the  greatest  excitement  and 
anxiety.  First  comes  the  driving  of  the  various 
mobs  to  the  "camp,"  a  work  accomplished  with 
as  little  whip-cracking  and  flurry  as  possible,  for 
the  object  in  view  is  to  prevent  the  animals  from 
becoming  excited  or  unmanageable.  When  the 
cattle  are  all  collected,  the  work  of  "cutting  out" 
begins.  The  cattle  are  packed  together,  some  of 
them  wild  with  fear  and  disturbing  the  others  by 
their  bellowing  and  sidelong  thrusting  of  the 
horns.  Into  the  mob  rides  the  stockman,  intent 
on  separating  from  it  some  particular  animal  he 
has  picked  out.  The  well-trained  horse  forces  his 
way  through  the  cattle,  obedient  to  every  touch 
of  knee  and  rein.  Soon  he  has  grasped  his  mas- 
ter's purpose  and  begins  to  edge  the  beast  singled 
out  towards  the  outside  of  the  throng.  It  is  a 
dangerous  work,  but  man  and  horse  have  confi- 
dence in  each  other,  and  both  are  alert  and  watch- 
ful. Now  the  beast  to  be  cut  out  is  one  of  a  dozen 
on  the  edge  of  the  pack,  and  with  a  crack  of  his 
whip  and  a  yell  the  stockman  drives  his  horse  be- 
tween them  and  the  mob,  separating  them  from  it. 
They  try  to  return,  and  those  not  required  are  al- 
lowed to  do  so,  but  the  beast  that  is  to  be  cut  out 
finds,  wherever  he   turns,  that  whip  and  horse 


Station  Work  35 

are  in  his  way.  Soon  he  is  galloping  in  the  direc- 
tion the  stockman  has  chosen,  and  is  added  to  the 
mob  of  cattle  to  which  he  rightly  belongs.  Then 
back  go  man  and  horse  to  the  press  again,  to  re- 
peat the  exciting  work.  After  the  cutting  out  is 
done,  and  the  beasts  have  been  sorted  in  mobs 
according  to  their  classes,  each  mob  is  made  to 
"string"  or  move  in  single  file,  in  order  that  a 
count  may  be  made.  I^ast  of  all  comes  the  brand- 
ing of  the  "clean-skins,"  an  operation  performed 
with  much  heating  of  irons,  an  overpowering 
odour  of  burning  hair  and  hide,  and  a  frantic  bel- 
lowing on  the  part  of  the  persecuted  oxen. 

If  the  good  qualities  of  the  stock-horse  are  to 
be  thoroughly  appreciated,  he  must  be  seen  at 
this  work  of  cutting  out,  or  the  equally  stirring 
performance  of  running  wild  horses.  The  ' '  brum- 
bies," as  the  wild  horses  are  called,  are  usually  to 
be  found  in  the  hilly  districts,  and  their  existence 
on  a  run  in  any  number  is  soon  made  apparent  by 
the  amount  of  pasturage  they  consume.  Then 
the  run-holder  may  arrange  to  clear  his  run  of 
them,  by  calling  in  a  band  of  men  who  make  the 
capture  of  wild  horses  their  profession.  Opera- 
tions are  begun  by  building  a  stout  stock-yard  in 
a  position  chosen  with  regard  to  the  known  habits 
of  the  horses.  On  the  day  appointed  for  the 
"running,"  there  is  no  lack  of  volunteers  willing 
to  try  the  speed  of  their  horses  against  that  of  the 
brumbies.  The  position  of  the  mob  of  wild  horses 
has  been  carefully  marked,  and  with  equal  care 


3^  Australian  Life 

plans  have  been  laid  for  the  course  along  which 
they  are  to  be  driven.  The  whole  success  of  the 
operation  depends  upon  the  carrying  out  of  these 
plans.  And  now  the  brumbies  are  off,  heading 
straight  for  the  roughest  part  of  the  range  of  hills, 
while  every  horseman  in  pursuit  is  getting  as 
much  as  possible  out  of  his  mount.  Those  best 
mounted  forge  ahead,  and  ride  for  the  flanks  of 
the  flying  mob  of  "long-tails,"  where  stock-whips 
are  presently  cracking  as  the  men  strive  to  turn 
the  terrified  animals.  Now  the  herd  is  tearing 
down  a  steep  declivity,  threading  between  trees 
and  boulders.  It  is  the  chance  of  the  mounted 
men,  for  even  the  wild  brumbies  are  not  so  sure- 
footed as  these  stock-horses.  One  or  two  of  the 
boldest  riders  are  at  the  foot  of  the  descent  be- 
fore their  quarry,  and  check  them  with  skilfully 
wielded  stock-whips.  The  others  press  closer 
now,  and  the  wild  animals  are  turned,  checked 
and  lashed  and  harried  into  a  state  of  exhaustion. 
Ivike  a  mob  of  driven  cattle,  they  are  forced  into 
the  stock-yard,  although  at  the  sight  of  the  fenc- 
ing the  wildest  of  them  make  a  last  effort  for  free- 
dom, and  two  or  three  may  probably  break  the 
cordon  and  escape  at  the  last  moment.  The  value 
of  the  brumby  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  a 
good  stock-horse,  carrying  a  full-grown  man,  can 
both  outpace  and  outstay  him.  Some  of  them  are 
easily  broken  to  both  saddle  and  harness,  but 
others  remain  incorrigible  "outlaws,"  in  spite  of 
the  forcible  methods  of  the  horse-breaker. 


Station  Work  37 

Most  stockmen  understand  the  breaking  of 
young  horses,  and  on  stations  where  horsebreed- 
ing  is  carried  on  to  any  considerable  extent,  there 
are  usually  one  or  two  men  well  qualified  for  such 
work.  The  methods  employed  are  of  the  rough- 
and-ready  order,  little  time  being  wasted  in  pre- 
paring the  unbroken  animal  for  the  ordeal  of  being 
mounted.  Once  in  the  saddle,  it  is  the  rider's  ob- 
ject to  enforce  his  mastery,  applying  whip  and 
spur  with  relentless  energy  at  any  sign  of  rebel- 
lion. I  can  recall  from  my  own  boyhood  a  picture 
of  one  of  these  horsebreakers,  whom  we  only  knew 
as  "Sydney  Bob" — an  undersized  man,  but  deep- 
chested  and  strong  of  arm,  and  with  a  weather- 
beaten  face  that  expressed  strong  determination. 
In  his  dress,  Sydney  Bob  was  "flash,"  addicted 
to  tight  cords  and  neat  boots,  a  brilliant  scarlet 
handkerchief  knotted  around  his  throat,  and  a 
wide-leaved  cabbage-tree  hat.  The  particular  in- 
cident with  which  he  is  connected  in  my  mind 
was  the  riding  of  a  young  bullock  down  the  main 
street  of  a  small  township  near  Ballarat.  The 
ride  was  the  outcome  of  a  wager,  and  the  feat  was 
made  more  dangerous  by  the  fact  that  the  rider 
had  one  arm  in  a  sling,  probably  as  a  result  of  a 
fall  from  some  unbroken  horse.  The  bullock  was 
hemmed  in  in  a  small  yard  of  the  local  sale-yards, 
and  the  first  notice  he  received  of  the  wager  of 
which  he  had  been  made  the  subject,  was  to  find 
a  man  astride  his  back.  The  panels  were  let 
down,  and  the  bullock  rushed  out  into  the  street 


38  Australian  Life 

with  Sydney  Bob,  facing  the  wrong  way,  vigor- 
ously twisting  his  tail  with  the  uninjured  hand. 
As  the  maddened  beast  tore  down  the  street,  his 
rider  could  be  heard  shouting  his  war-cry  of — 

Blow  me,  dontcher  know  me? 
I  'm  Sydney  Bob,  the  rider. 

From  that  freak,  he  escaped  without  injury, 
although  I  believe  he  met  his  death  as  a  result  of 
one  of  these  mad  wagers.  In  his  day,  this  man 
was  a  notable  rider  of  "buckjumpers,"  and  a  well- 
known  character  at  horse-sales. 

Among  the  most  skilful  of  horsebreakers  are 
the  rough-riders  attached  to  the  Australian  police 
departments,  which  annually  purchase  large 
draughts  of  valuable  young  horses  for  the  use  of 
the  mounted  police.  Among  a  draught  I  once  saw 
handled  by  the  police  rough-riders,  was  a  buck- 
jumper  which  gave  a  most  extraordinary  exhibi- 
tion of  his  accomplishments.  He  did  not  look  the 
part  at  all;  otherwise,  he  would  never  have  been 
purchased  for  the  purpose  of  a  trooper's  mount. 
This  horse  allowed  himself  to  be  saddled  with  a 
meekness  that  his  experienced  rider  evidently  con- 
sidered suspicious,  for  he  was  obviously  prepared 
for  the  performance  which  followed.  No  sooner 
had  he  thrown  himself  into  the  saddle  than  the 
horse  sprang  into  the  air,  ducking  his  head  and 
arching  his  back  with  a  ferocious  energy.  Four 
times  he  leaped  into  the  air,  bucking  until  it 
seemed  that  the  stout  girth  would  break.     Find- 


Station  Work  39 

ing  these  tactics  useless,  he  broke  into  a  mad 
gallop,  and  then,  with  a  sidelong  leap,  he  once 
more  arched  his  back  like  a  bent  bow.  Then  he 
reared  up  on  his  hind  legs,  threatening  to  fall 
backwards  upon  his  rider.  Finally,  he  did  throw 
himself  upon  the  ground,  but  the  man's  skill 
saved  him  from  being  crushed,  and  when  the  ani- 
mal rose  to  his  feet  again,  it  was  only  to  find  him- 
self still  burdened  with  his  hated  incubus.  He 
continued  to  struggle  until  he  was  thoroughly 
exhausted  and  allowed  himself  to  be  ridden 
around  the  riding-school.  Then  the  rough-rider 
dismounted.  "An  outlaw,"  said  he,  "and  a  bad 
'un  at  that." 

Another  familiar  figure  on  the  station  is  the 
rabbit-trapper,  with  his  waggon,  his  wire  netting, 
and  his  spring-traps.  At  one  time,  when  the 
trapper  received  payment  from  the  squatter  for 
the  scalps  of  his  slain  rabbits,  these  men  might 
earn  as  much  as  ^20  a  week  in  the  badly  infested 
districts.  It  is  said — and  there  is  good  reason  to 
believe  it — that  many  of  these  men  deliberately 
spared  the  female  rabbits,  declining  to  put  an  end 
to  such  a  lucrative  employment  by  readily  help- 
ing to  stamp  the  rabbits  out.  The  pastoralists 
were  helpless  in  the  face  of  the  law;  which  was 
afterwards  modified,  when  the  rabbit-trappers'  era 
of  luxury  came  to  a  sudden  end.  At  that  time, 
the  commercial  value  of  bunny  was  practically  7iil, 
but  the  use  of  his  fur  in  the  manufacture  of  felt 
hats  and  the  improvements  made  in  the  transport 


40  Australian  Life 

of  frozen  meats  have  given  a  new  lease  of  life  to 
the  occupation  of  rabbit-trapping.  Many  millions 
of  rabbits  are  now  annually  exported  from  Aus- 
tralia, and  even  more  are  poisoned  for  the  sake  of 
their  skins.  Wherever  there  is  railway  commu- 
nication, the  once-despised  rabbit  is  now  regarded 
as  a  source  of  employment  and  revenue.  In  such 
districts,  the  rabbits  are  being  kept  well  in  check, 
as  the  trappers  are  glad  to  undertake  the  work  for 
the  value  of  their  catch.  An  experienced  man, 
with  a  proper  outfit  of  cart,  horse,  and  wire-net- 
ting traps,  can  make  from  ^3  to  ^4  a  week, 
though  he  has  to  thoroughly  understand  his  work 
if  he  is  to  earn  so  much. 

The  fox  was  introduced  into  Australia  to  make 
war  upon  the  rabbits,  and  has  made  himself  thor- 
oughly at  home  there.  He  prefers  poultry  to  the 
rabbit,  and  has  become  such  a  nuisance  in  the 
farming  districts  that  rewards  are  paid  for  his 
scalp.  In  one  district  alone,  over  thirty  thousand 
foxes  were  killed  in  the  year  1901,  though  these 
animals,  like  the  dingoes,  show  the  greatest  cun- 
ning in  avoiding  poisoned  baits  laid  for  them. 
For  the  scalp  of  a  dingo,  as  much  as  twenty  shil- 
lings will  be  paid,  and  the  pastoralists  are  glad  to 
get  rid  of  the  brutes  on  such  terms,  for  their  de- 
predations at  lambing  time  cause  heavy  loss  wher- 
ever they  are  at  all  plentiful.  The  mistaken 
enthusiasts  who  introduced  rabbits  and  foxes  into 
Australia  can  at  least  point  to  others  as  mistaken 
as  themselves.     There  is,  for  instance,  the  house 


Station  Work  41 

sparrow,  a  very  undesirable  emigrant  who  has 
invaded  the  country  districts  and  proved  himself 
destructive  and  a  nuisance.  He  was  introduced  to 
Australia  as  an  insect  killer,  but  careful  examina- 
tion of  his  diet  shows  that  only  three  and  a  half 
per  cent,  of  it  consists  of  insects.  The  rest  is 
grain  and  seeds.  This  fraud  multiplies  at  an  un- 
heard-of rate,  and  persecutes  and  drives  away  the 
less  hardy  native  birds.  Among  vegetable  pests, 
the  prickly  pear  is  perhaps  the  worst,  although  in 
the  worst  of  the  great  drought  it  was  shown  to 
have  its  uses.  The  Scotch  thistle  is  another  im- 
ported plant,  which  has  spread  itself  far  and  wide, 
choking  the  valuable  pastures,  and  rendering 
large  grazing  areas  useless.  The  dog-rose,  or 
sweet-briar,  has  played  the  same  part  of  unwel- 
come guest,  and  there  are  further  instances  that 
could  be  adduced  in  justification  of  the  coldness 
with  which  Australians  now  regard  any  attempt 
to  acclimatise  a  new  animal  or  plant,  the  use  of 
which  is  not  plainly  apparent. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ON  A  SELECTION 

She  helped  him  make  a  little  home, 

Where  once  were  gum  trees  quaint  and  stark 
And  blood-woods  waved  green-feathered  foam, 

Working  from  dawn  of  day  till  dark. 
Till  that  dark  forest  formed  a  frame 

For  vineyards  that  the  gods  might  bless  ; 
And  what  was  savage  once  became 

An  Bden  in  the  wilderness. 

Victor  Dai,ky. 

FOR  tlie  origin  of  the  term  "selector,"  we 
must  go  back  to  an  Act  passed  by  the  New 
South  Wales  Parliament  in  1861.  Ten  years  had 
passed  since  the  gold  discoveries,  and  many  of 
the  immigrants  were  clamouring  for  land  for  farm- 
ing purposes.  A  Land  Act  was  accordingly 
passed  permitting  the  "selection"  of  blocks  of 
land  from  forty  to  three  hundred  acres  in  extent, 
to  be  purchased  from  the  State  by  the  selector  on 
a  system  of  instalment  payments.  The  Act  even 
allowed  the  selection  to  be  made  on  areas  leased 
as  pastoral  holdings,  and  soon  the  squatters  found 
the  selectors  occupying  the  most  fertile  and  best- 
42 


On  a  Selection  43 

watered  patches  on  their  runs.  Thus  began  a 
feud  between  squatter  and  selector,  which  is  vig- 
orously maintained  in  some  places  at  the  present 
day.  In  addition  to  the  three  hundred  acres  he 
may  obtain  by  purchase,  the  selector  can  "take 
up"  an  additional  area  of  three  hundred  acres  on 
leasehold,  and  may  further  expand  his  holding  by 
selecting  in  the  name  of  his  children  under  certain 
conditions.  By  these  expedients,  the  selection 
can  be  made  to  assume  very  respectable  dimen- 
sions, and  frequently  its  size  hampers  the  selector 
in  the  struggle  upon  which  he  enters  to  make  for 
himself  and  his  family  a  home  in  the  bush. 

In  the  vernacular  of  the  bush,  the  selector  is  a 
"cockie,"  and  cockie  is  short  for  cockatoo  farmer. 
He  is  a  cockatoo  farmer  because  he  works  early 
and  late  to  clear  a  patch  of  ground,  and  plough  it ; 
then  he  sows  his  seed,  only  to  wake  at  dawn  the 
next  day  and  find  his  field  white  with  cockatoos, 
all  busily  devouring  the  grain.  Those  cockatoos 
are  the  only  crop  he  has,  "of  all  his  labour  and 
vexation  of  his  heart  wherein  he  hath  laboured 
under  the  sun."  If  not  cockatoos,  then  rabbits, 
or  locusts,  or  drought  interfere  to  deprive  him  of 
the  result  of  his  work. 

The  typical  cockle's  hut  is  remarkable  for  the 
size  of  its  clay  fireplace,  which  is  usually  the  nu- 
cleus of  the  structure.  Planning  on  an  ambitious 
scale,  the  cockie  builds  his  fireplace  first,  from 
bricks  made  of  puddled  clay  dried  in  the  sun.  To 
this  he  builds  a  hut  of  two  or  three  rooms,  with 


44  Australian  Life 

sapling  uprights  and  boarding  of  shingles  from 
the  splitter's  camp.  Slabs  of  bark  make  the  roof, 
and  the  only  materials  purchased  are  a  couple  of 
glazed  window-sashes  and  a  door.  The  bare 
earth  serves  as  floor,  a  slab  table  is  knocked  to- 
gether and  a  home-made  form,  and  two  or  three 
gin-cases  serve  for  chairs.  Beds  are  made  by- 
stretching  canvas  or  hessian  upon  sapling  frames, 
and  the  house  is  ready  for  occupation. 

The  cockie  himself  is  a  young  Australian,  who 
has  had  several  good  seasons  in  the  shearing- 
sheds,  and  has  been  steady  enough  to  save  his 
cheques.  His  wife  is  a  bush  girl,  jolly,  fond  of 
fun  and  dancing,  and  equal  to  any  emergency. 
Chopping  wood,  milking  cows,  riding  barebacked 
horses,  and  killing  snakes  are  among  her  many 
accomplishments,  all  of  them  of  the  greatest  use 
on  a  selection.  Her  domestic  utensils  are  in- 
teresting. First  comes  the  camp  oven,  a  large 
iron  pot  with  three  short  legs  and  a  close-fitting 
lid.  The  camp  oven  is  placed  in  the  fire,  the 
ashes  are  heaped  over  it,  and  anything  can  be 
baked  in  it  from  a  loaf  of  bread  to  a  leg  of  mutton. 
An  iron  bar  stretches  across  the  fireplace,  from 
which  there  hangs  by  a  hook  the  griddle — a  plate 
of  iron  on  which  scones  and  bannocks  can  be 
rapidly  baked.  The  inevitable  frying-pan  and 
billy-can  complete  the  list,  unless  a  boiler  im- 
provised out  of  a  large  parafl&n  tin  be  included. 
The  same  simplicity  characterises  the  rest  of  the 
household  equipments,   for  the  bush  home  is  a 


On  a  Selection  45 

standing  argument  in  favour  of  the  contention 
that  many  of  the  supposed  necessities  of  civilisa- 
tion are  in  reahty  but  superfluities.  With  a 
dozen  sheep,  a  few  cows,  and  a  patient  old  horse, 
the  cockie  and  his  wife  settle  down  to  the  work 
of  clearing  and  fencing  their  holding,  brave  and 
resolute,  and  happy  if  they  have  but  a  few  pounds 
in  the  bank  to  keep  them  in  their  initial  struggles. 
So  much  for  the  beginnings.  I,et  us  now  visit 
a  selection  which  has  been  taken  up  for  some 
years.  There  is  the  same  hut,  now  sadly  dilapi- 
dated, and  with  a  lean-to  added  to  serve  as  a 
dairy,  and  another  roughly  constructed  room  to 
provide  sleeping  accommodation  for  the  growing 
family  of  children.  The  selector  may  be  able  to 
afford  a  much  better  habitation,  and  probably  in- 
tends to  provide  one.  He  will  talk  of  a  situation 
he  has  chosen,  superior  in  every  way  to  that  he 
now  occupies.  His  wife,  faded  and  prematurely 
aged  with  the  hard  work,  or  the  worry  of  a  large 
famil})-,  looks  forward  with  a  pathetic  cheerfulness 
to  the  change.  Meanwhile,  what  is  the  use  of 
trying  to  improve  the  old  house?  So  the  bark 
roof  continues  to  leak,  and  the  earthen  floor  to  be- 
come mud,  while  the  door  will  not  shut,  or  will 
not  open.  These  things  are  ignored  as  the  selector 
talks  of  the  conveniences  of  the  new  house  he 
means  to  build,  A  walk  around  the  selection 
shows  that  its  owner  is  master  of  every  imagin- 
able makeshift.  "Dog  leg"  fences,  made  of  long 
saplings,    supported   on   improvised    and    shaky 


46  Australian  Life 

trestles,  run  crookedly  between  the  paddocks, 
inviting  the  stock  to  break  through  and  stray. 
Valuable  machinery  for  harvesting  lies  unpro- 
tected and  rusting  in  dew  and  rain,  waiting  for 
the  shelter-shed  its  owner  is  just  going  to  erect. 
The  women  folk  have  to  carry  their  water  from 
the  creek  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  although  a 
pure  and  better  supply  could  be  obtained  by  sink- 
ing a  well  near  the  house.  The  cultivation  pad- 
docks bristle  with  stumps,  the  standing  crop  is 
fringed  with  a  border  of  dry  grass,  which  might 
safely  be  burned  ofiF  on  a  still  day.  Some  hot 
night  the  north  wind  will  drive  a  bush  fire  upon 
the  selection,  and  the  selector  and  his  family  will 
have  to  fight  the  flames  along  that  fringe  of 
dry  grass,  or  see  their  year's  work  licked  up  by 
the  fire.  Everything  speaks  of  procrastination 
and  makeshift;  his  very  occupation  of  the  soil 
is  regarded  by  the  cockie  as  only  a  temporary 
permanence. 

The  day's  work  on  the  selection  begins  at 
"piccaninny  daylight,"  when  the  stars  are  still 
shining  in  the  grey  sky,  and  the  birds  are  utter- 
ing their  first  sleepy  calls.  Down  into  the  horse- 
paddocks  goes  the  eldest  boy.  Having  caught 
the  quietest  horse,  he  throws  a  sack  across  it  and 
drives  the  rest  up  to  the  yard,  He  slips  a  saddle 
and  bridle  on  his  riding-horse,  and  at  once  sets  off 
to  bring  in  the  cows.  By  this  time,  the  whole  bush 
is  awake.  A  party  of  kookaburras,  perched  on 
the  big  swamp  gum  tree  by  the  creek,  are  laugh- 


On  a  Selection  47 

ing  at  some  joke  of  their  own,  and  across  the  flats 
the  magpies  are  fluting  and  carolling  out  of  sheer 
joy.  Green  parrots  dart  in  shrieking  flocks  from 
tree  to  tree  in  search  of  honey-laden  eucalyptus 
blossoms.  Startled  by  the  hoof- falls,  a  grey  wal- 
laby hops  through  the  scrub,  making  gigantic 
leaps  in  its  fright.  The  boy  tears  ofi"  a  twig  of 
eucalyptus  to  brush  away  the  tormenting  flies, 
and  with  many  a  yell  and  shout  drives  the  lowing 
cows  into  the  yard. 

Then  comes  the  work  of  milking,  in  which 
every  one  takes  part.  When  it  is  finished  the 
boy  has  his  breakfast,  while  his  father  harnesses 
a  horse  to  the  spring-cart,  in  which  the  milk,  in 
a  large  tin  vessel,  is  to  be  conveyed  to  the  butter 
factory.  The  money  received  for  the  milk  is  the 
only  regular  source  of  income  the  selection  can 
boast,  and  the  institution  of  these  butter  factories 
has  done  much  to  make  existence  possible  for  the 
selector.  It  would  be  interesting  to  trace  the 
butter  from  the  factory  to  the  big  cool-storage 
depot  in  Melbourne  or  Sydney,  and  thence  to  the 
refrigerating  chamber  of  an  ocean-going  steamer, 
to  appear  presently  on  some  English  or  African 
breakfast-table.  Meanwhile,  having  seen  the 
milk  despatched,  the  cockie  sits  down  to  a  break- 
fast of  milkless  tea  and  butterless  bread.  Presently, 
the  boy  returns  with  his  vessel  of  "separated" 
milk  for  the  consumption  of  the  calves  and  pigs; 
and  now  it  is  time  for  school. 

Anxiously  the  mother  watches  the  children  set 


4^  Australian  Life 

off  along  the  bush  track,  each  child  with  its  din- 
ner and  bottle  of  water  in  the  bag  with  the  school 
books.  It  is  four  miles  to  the  little  school  near 
the  main  road,  and  the  mother  sighs  as  she  thinks 
of  the  snakes  and  other  dangers  of  the  track. 
That  is  part  of  the  bush  training,  however,  and 
helps  to  make  children  fearless  and  resourceful. 
She  has  other  things  to  think  of,  calves,  pigs,  and 
poultry  to  feed,  and  dinner  to  prepare.  Her  hus- 
band rides  off  in  quest  of  some  straying  stock,  and 
to  mend  the  gap  in  the  field  through  which  they 
have  escaped.  He  meets  his  neighbour,  who  is 
on  the  same  errand,  and  a  long  conversation  en- 
sues regarding  the  slackness  of  the  Road  Board, 
the  increase  of  rabbits  in  the  district,  and  the  re- 
missness of  the  local  Member  of  Parliament.  The 
cockie  is  an  ardent  politician,  and  is  only  diverted 
from  his  subject  by  the  arrival  of  the  local  grazier, 
who  repeats  a  long-standing  offer  for  some  sheep 
which  cockie  number  two  has  for  sale.  After  the 
usual  chaffering,  the  matter  is  allowed  to  remain 
open,  and  all  three  go  off  to  their  work. 

At  midday,  dinner  is  ready,  and  may  consist  of 
beef  salted  and  boiled,  the  remnant  of  a  beast 
killed  some  time  before,  A  plentiful  allowance  of 
pumpkin  is  served  with  it,  for  the  pumpkin  patch 
repeats  itself  every  year,  the  self-sown  plants 
thriving  in  a  manner  only  possible  where  the  soil 
is  very  fertile.  The  scheme  for  a  new  house  in- 
cludes a  large  vegetable  garden,  where  onions, 
tomatoes,  and  cabbages  will  grow  luxuriantly, 


On  a  Selection  49 

but,  until  then,  the  pumpkin  is  the  staple  vege- 
table. Dinner  is  washed  down  with  plenty  of 
scalding  tea,  after  which  the  selector  lights  his 
pipe  and  goes  off  to  work  again.  During  the 
afternoon,  a  swagman  conies  to  the  door,  with 
the  stereotyped  question,  "Any  chance  of  a 
feed,  missus?"  He  is  introduced  to  the  wood 
heap  and  a  blunt  axe,  and  if  he  is  a  genuine 
man, — and  he  generally  is, — he  chops  a  pile  of 
wood  and  carries  water  from  the  creek  while  the 
inevitable  tea  is  being  prepared.  A  meal  is  set  be- 
fore him,  and  he  eats  ravenously,  chatting  between 
mouthfuls  concerning  the  state  of  the  country  he 
has  just  traversed.  A  pannikin  of  flour  and  a 
"bit  o'  tea"  send  him  on  his  way  satisfied,  to 
camp  for  the  night  in  a  clump  of  low  timber 
further  along  the  track. 

And  now  the  shadows  are  lengthening,  and  the 
selector's  wife  goes  down  to  the  slip  rails  to  wait 
for  the  post-boy,  who  may  have  a  letter  or  paper 
for  her.  That  bush  Mercury  comes  ambling  along 
the  track  on  his  dusty  pony,  and,  shaking  his 
head  in  reply  to  her  questioning  look,  rides  by 
with  a  cheery  "Good  evening."  Shading  her 
eyes  from  the  setting  sun,  she  sees  the  children 
straggling  home  from  school,  and  turns  back  to 
the  house  to  get  their  tea  ready.  Then  the  cows 
have  to  be  milked  once  more,  and  the  young  stock 
tended,  which  occupies  everybody  until  it  is  quite 
dark.  The  mother  sets  about  putting  the  children 
to  bed,  but  the  eldest  boy  whistles  to  his  dog,  and 


50  Australian  Life 

takes  up  his  old  single-barrelled  gun,  looking 
wistfully  at  his  father.  The  latter  "does  n't  see 
why  he  should  n't,"  and  the  pair  go  off  amicably 
in  search  of  'possums,  the  skins  of  which  will  be 
tanned  and  converted  into  a  fine  serviceable  rug. 
They  are  soon  back,  though,  and  at  an  early  hour 
all  are  in  bed,  enjoying  a  well-earned  rest. 

The  bush  folk  have  few  pleasures,  but  they  can- 
not be  said  to  take  them  sadly.  They  rather 
make  the  best  of  things.  When  Christmas  time 
comes,  the  boys  go  off  into  the  ranges  and  cut 
young  cherry  trees — which  are  not  cherry  trees — 
and  big  fern  leaves  to  decorate  the  house  with  a 
brave  show  of  green.  A  great  slaughter  of  poul- 
try and  sucking  pigs  takes  place,  and  puddings 
are  boiled  and  cakes  baked  in  readiness  for  the 
holiday.  Old  friends  come  riding  in,  and  brothers 
who  were  away  droving  or  shearing  turn  up  un- 
expectedly, and  sleep  on  shakedowns  before  the 
kitchen  fire.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  eating  and 
jollity,  and  in  the  evening  a  visit  is  paid  to  a 
neighbour's  house,  where  the  young  people  dance 
to  the  strains  of  a  concertina,  while  the  staider 
married  folk  gossip  together,  the  men  smoking 
their  pipes  outside  and  discussing  their  unfailing 
politics. 

On  Boxing  Day,  the  selection  is  left  to  look 
after  itself,  and  the  whole  family  drives  off  to  the 
"sports  "  in  the  spring  cart.  There  is  provision- 
ing on  a  liberal  scale  from  the  substantial  rem- 
nants of  the   Christmas  feast,    and  the  family 


On  a  Selection  51 

picnics  happily  under  some  shady  gum  tree.  The 
sports  provide  plenty  of  excitement,  and  if  the 
selector's  driving  on  the  homeward  way  is  reck- 
less and  erratic, — well,  it  is  not  often  he  meets  so 
many  old  friends  on  one  day.  Show  Day  is  an- 
other bush  holiday  very  generally  observed. 
There  is  much  competition  at  that  time  in  live 
stock  of  all  kinds,  and  prizes  may  be  won  by 
housewives  proud  of  their  home-baked  bread  or 
their  home-cured  bacon  and  hams.  The  country 
is  looking  its  best  at  show  time,  for  shows  are 
held  in  the  early  spring,  when  there  are  hopes  of 
good  crops  and  a  plentiful  increase  of  live  stock 
and  poultry.  These  are  the  interludes  that  break 
the  monotony  of  the  selector's  life,  and  prevent 
him  from  losing  touch  with  old  friends,  and  be- 
coming soured  by  the  anxieties,  disappointments, 
and  losses  he  has  so  constantly  to  face. 

Each  summer  brings  for  him  its  harassing  dread 
of  bush  fires.  He  watches  the  grass  turn  brown 
beneath  the  scorching  sun,  and  counts  the  days 
until  his  standing  crop  shall  be  ready  for  harvest. 
The  passing  swagman  is  an  object  of  painful  in- 
terest, for  a  carelessly  dropped  match  or  a  camp 
fire  left  unextiaguished  may  precipitate  a  disaster. 
At  last,  the  wheat  is  cut  and  stacked  in  stooks 
about  the  paddock,  and  the  cockie  works  fever- 
ishly to  get  it  carted  away  to  the  thrashing- 
machine  at  work  in  the  nearest  township.  Then 
he  breathes  more  freely,  though  he  has  still  much 
to  lose.     The  earth  cracks  with  the  summer  heat, 


52  Australian  Life 

week  after  week  brings  no  rain,  and  the  hot  north 
wind  is  charged  with  a  smell  of  burning  greenery. 
Then,  one  evening,  when  the  sun  goes  down  a 
fiery  crimson  ball,  a  red  glare  warns  him  of  the 
approaching  danger.  All  the  live  stock,  kept 
near  the  house  as  a  precaution  against  such  an 
emergency,  is  quickly  driven  into  the  bare  yard, 
and  then  the  settler  and  his  family  cut  branches 
to  beat  the  fire  out.  It  comes  down  on  them  with 
incredible  rapidity,  first  a  cloud  of  choking  smoke 
shot  with  sparks,  and  in  a  moment  the  dry  grass 
beneath  their  feet  is  crackling  into  flame.  They 
beat  the  fire  out  with  their  green  branches, 
scarcely  glancing  at  the  pranks  it  is  playing  all 
around  them.  The  flames  run  up  the  loose  hang- 
ing bark  of  a  big  gum  tree,  and  it  bursts  into  a 
sheet  of  flame,  threatening  the  little  homestead 
with  burning  branches  falling  from  above.  It 
reaches  the  dry  stubble  and  sweeps  across  it  with 
a  glad  roar.  Three  weeks  ago,  the  crop  would 
have  met  with  the  same  fate,  but  the  settler  and 
his  family  have  no  time  to  notice  these  things. 
They  beat  the  flames  down,  walking  among  them 
with  singeing  clothes  and  blistering  hands.  They 
are  fighting  for  their  home,  and  the  terrified  ani- 
mals that  huddle  around  it  in  helpless  terror. 
Some  neighbours,  fortunate  enough  to  be  out  of 
the  zone  of  fire,  come  riding  at  top  speed  down 
the  tracks  to  their  assistance.  Just  in  time,  too, 
for  the  dry  fencing  is  all  ablaze,  and  the  fire 
ring  is  closing  in.     Buckets  of  water  are  hastily 


On  a  Selection  53 

brought,  and  the  branches  do  their  work  more 
effectually  after  a  drenching.  The  fight  is  re- 
sumed with  new  vigour,  for  the  worst  of  the  fire 
has  passed.  It  is  sweeping  through  the  country 
a  mile  away,  leaving  in  its  track  a  wake  of  blazing 
trees,  charred  fences,  and  blackened  soil.  But  the 
home  is  saved  and  the  stock  as  well,  and  the  set- 
tlers, with  blackened  faces  and  smoke-reddened 
eyes,  congratulate  one  another  that  it  is  no  worse. 
Next  day,  the  selector  is  able  to  estimate  the  ex- 
tent of  his  misfortune.  Fences  burned  every- 
where, not  a  mouthful  of  feed  left  on  his  selection 
to  keep  the  stock  alive  until  the  rain  comes.  Ah, 
well!  it  might  have  been  worse.  He  must  pay 
for  pasturing  the  stocks  in  somebody's  paddock 
until  the  grass  shoots  again,  and  he  is  lucky  to 
have  saved  his  crop  and  so  to  be  able  to  find  the 
money. 

Bush  fire  is  not  the  only  disaster  the  selector  is 
called  upon  to  face.  The  rainy  season  may  swell 
the  little  creek  that  runs  through  the  selection 
until  it  overflows  its  banks,  and  floods  the  pad- 
docks. Then  the  selector  looks  across  a  waste  of 
waters,  and  can  only  hope  that  they  will  not  cover 
the  little  islands  of  high  ground  where  his  animals 
have  taken  refuge.  He  may  work  hard  with  his 
neighbours  to  carry  out  the  instructions  issued  by 
the  Government  for  the  destruction  of  the  eggs 
and  young  of  the  locusts,  only  to  find  his  green 
crop  devoured  by  a  swarm  nurtured  somewhere 
else.     Rabbits  and  other  pests,  both  animal  and 


54  Australian  Life 

vegetable,  are  always  with  him,  aud  he  sows  his 
seed  without  any  certainty  of  reaping  a  harvest. 
There  is  little  cause  to  wonder  that  this  uncer- 
tainty has  made  the  selector  a  fatalist  with  a  creed 
of  "what  is  to  be  will  be."  His  makeshifts,  his 
procrastinations,  are  only  his  preparation  for  some 
final  disaster,  which  may  leave  him  beaten  and 
penniless,  to  take  up  the  thread  of  existence 
bravely  in  some  new  place.  He  fights  doggedly 
on,  but  he  digs  no  garden,  and  plants  no  pleasant 
shade  trees  around  his  bush  home.  He  has  an 
ideal  of  a  land  where  the  seasons  are  regular  and 
life  can  be  well  ordered  and  arranged  without  the 
necessity  of  pitting  the  work  of  a  year  against  the 
caprice  of  nature.  Sometimes,  when  drought  and 
hard  times  press  too  severely  upon  him,  he  sells 
out  and  emigrates  to  Canada,  South  Africa,  or  the 
Argentine,  in  the  hope  of  finding  his  ideal  there. 
But  he  usually  struggles  on,  with  the  hope  of  bet- 
ter times  before  him,  fighting  drought,  bush  fire, 
and  the  mortgagee  with  a  dogged  courage  worthy 
of  all  success.  The  Australian  newspaper  man 
delights  to  write  of  the  selector  as  the  "backbone 
of  the  country,"  and,  as  usual,  the  newspaper 
man  is  not  far  away  from  the  truth. 


CHAPTER  V 

THB    NE;VER-NKVKR   I.AND 

They  had  told  us  of  pastures  wide  and  green, 

To  be  sought  past  the  sunset's  glow, 
Of  rifts  in  the  ranges  by  opals  lit, 

And  gold  'neath  the  river's  flow. 
And  thirst  and  hunger  were  banished  words, 

When  they  spoke  of  that  unknown  West ; 
No  drought  they  dread,  no  flood  they  feared. 

Where  the  pelican  builds  her  nest, 

Mary  H.  Foote. 


M 


ORE  than  one-half  of  Australia  consists  of 
country  still  unexplored  or  only  partially 
explored.  Across  the  unexplored  portions  there 
are  written  on  the  map  such  words  as  "great 
sandy  desert."  Year  by  year,  the  dimensions  of 
these  map  areas  are  being  reduced,  and  more  is 
being  learned  of  the  nature  and  resources  of  those 
uninviting  wastes  from  which  the  early  explorers 
turned  back  in  despair,  or  where  they  laid  down 
their  lives  in  the  vain  attempt  to  fathom  secrets 
that  are  still  unsolved.  The  mystery  of  that  un- 
known region  makes  its  appeal  even  to  the  Aus- 
tralian who  spends  his  life  in  the  fringe  of  settled 
55 


56  Australian  Life 

land  that  lies  along  the  sea-coast.  To  the  bush- 
men  who  have  seen  it,  now  fair  and  smiling,  and 
decked  like  a  garden  with  glowing  flowers,  and 
again  a  forbidding  and  arid  wilderness,  the  Never- 
Never  Land,  unknown  and  only  partially  known, 
is  a  magnet  that  draws  them  on  to  adventure.  It 
holds  fortune,  and  it  holds  death. 

On  the  plains  of  the  Never- Never, 
That 's  where  the  dead  men  lie, 

wrote  Barcroft  Boake.  For  more  than  fifty  years, 
the  Never- Never  Land  has  held  one  secret  that 
many  bold  men  have  failed  to  wrest  from  it — the 
fate  of  L/udwig  Leichhardt.  In  1848,  Leichhardt 
set  out  from  the  Darling  Downs  in  Queensland, 
following  the  course  of  the  river  Barcoo,  with  the 
intention  of  striking  west  across  Australia  in  the 
direction  of  Perth.  He  and  his  party  were  swal- 
lowed up  by  the  desert,  and  from  that  day  to  this, 
their  fate  remains  a  mystery.  Expeditions  were 
fitted  out  in  the  hope,  at  least,  of  tracing  them  to 
their  last  camp,  but  in  vain.  No  explorer  goes 
out  at  the  present  day  without  some  faint  expecta- 
tion of  discovering  an  explanation  of  their  total 
disappearance,  but  not  one  vestige  of  the  expedi- 
tion has  been  found.  And  Ludwig  Leichhardt  is 
but  one  of  the  many  victims  of  the  Never- Never 
Land. 

If  the  risks  are  great,  the  rewards  also  are  great. 
In  the  year  1892,  two  prospectors  named  Ba5'^ley 
and  Ford,  both  good  bushmen,  ventured  a  little 


The  Never-Never  Land        57 

further  than  their  fellows  away  from  the  edge  of 
the  known  country  into  the  heart  of  the  unknown. 
Three  months  later,  the  whole  world  was  talking 
of  the  richness  of  the  new  Coolgardie  goldfields, 
and  the  two  bold  adventurers  were  the  owners  of 
the  famous  mine  called  Bay  ley's  Reward,  which 
produced  ore  that  held  more  gold  than  stone.  Ten 
years  later,  a  big  city,  lighted  by  electric  light  and 
connected  with  the  far-distant  coast  by  a  long 
railway,  stood  on  the  ground  over  which  they  had 
been  the  first  white  men  to  walk.  A  big  slice 
was  lopped  off  the  western  edge  of  the  Never- 
Never  country  by  the  enterprise  and  daring  of 
those  two  successful  prospectors. 

It  is  characteristic  of  Australian  hopefulness 
that  the  pastoralist  as  well  as  the  prospector  has 
found  his  way  into  the  half-known  country,  and 
is  pasturing  his  sheep  and  jauUocks  on  some  of  the 
most  fertile  parts  of  it.  [The  conditions  of  pas- 
toral life  in  these  remote  back  stations  contrast 
strangely  with  the  luxury  and  convenience  of  the 
homes  of  the  squatters  who  settled  in  the  early 
days  on  well-watered  runs  near  the  coast.  A 
small  wooden  house,  with  a  glaring  roof  of  gal- 
vanised iron,  stands  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness 
of  scrub.  The  furniture  of  the  hut — it  is  little 
more — is  of  the  most  primitive  description,  for  the 
manager  is  a  bachelor,  and  so  are  the  jackaroos 
and  the  few  station  hands.  There,  from  one 
rainy  season  to  another,  these  men  are  engaged 
in  their  desperate  struggle  to  keep  stock  alive, 


58  Australian  Life 

always  hoping  that  the  uext  season  will  bring 
better  fortune;  that  is,  more  rain.  They  have 
water,  at  least,  although  it  is  muddy  and  yellow, 
or  has  to  be  boiled  and  skimmed  before  they  may 
drink  it.  But  all  around  them  there  is  a  belt  of 
bad  country,  so  dry  that  it  is  impossible  to  move 
their  stock  across  it,  if  they  wished  to.  Their 
stores  come  to  them  once  every  three  months  by 
camel-train,  and  the  sight  of  a  fresh  white  face  is 
a  rarity.  There  is  little  cause  to  wonder  that, 
after  a  time,  this  isolated  life  of  hardship  has  its 
effect  upon  the  character  of  the  men  who  lead  it, 
and  that  some  of  them  become  morbid  and  others 
hopeless  and  desperate.] 

When  the  long-expected  good  seasons  at  last 
come,  these  outback  stations  begin  to  justify  their 
existence.  Soon  there  is  plenty  of  feed  every- 
where, and  the  listless  sheep  and  hollow-sided 
cattle  become  round  and  sleek.  Even  in  the 
worst  of  the  bad  country  there  is  at  last  some  feed 
and  water,  and  now  is  the  chance  to  send  all  the 
surplus  stock  to  market.  This  is  the  busy  time 
of  the  drovers.  On  these  stations  in  the  Never- 
Never  country,  the  marketable  cattle  have  per- 
haps been  accumulating  for  three  years,  and  now 
in  mobs  of  a  thousand  or  more  they  are  being 
despatched  from  the  far-away  Gulf  country  to  the 
Southern  and  Eastern  markets.  Each  mob  is  in 
charge  of  a  band  of  stockmen,  who  think  nothing 
of  a  three  months'  journey  across  the  silent  central 
plain  behind  their  restless  herd  of  cattle.     In  ad- 


The  Never-Never  Land        59 

vance  of  the  mob,  the  cook  drives  his  cart,  ever 
on  the  look-out,  as  nightfall  approaches,  for  a 
suitable  place  for  the  camp.  Behind  the  cart,  a 
few  spare  horses  are  led  in  halters,  for  the  use  of 
the  eight  or  ten  mounted  drovers  in  charge  of  the 
herd  of  cattle  that  follows.  See  them  coming,  a 
thousand  great  lumbering  bullocks,  packed  in  one 
dense  mob,  with  the  men,  tanned  and  picturesque, 
sitting  so  easily  on  the  clever  stock-horses.  Every 
man  has  his  eyes  upon  the  herd,  for  they  have  not 
been  long  upon  the  route,  and  are  awkward  to 
drive  because  they  have  not  yet  found  their  travel- 
ling legs.  The  stock-whips  sound  from  time  to 
time  with  a  report  like  the  discharge  of  a  rifle,  as 
some  discontented  animal  makes  an  attempt  to 
break  away  from  his  fellows.  In  another  month 
or  so,  if  all  goes  well,  the  bullocks  will  have  be- 
come used  to  travelling,  and  the  necessity  for  con- 
stant vigilance  will  have  ceased  to  exist. 

When  the  evening  comes,  the  drovers  find  their 
camp  pitched  and  a  meal  ready  for  them,  but  their 
day's  work  is  by  no  means  over.  The  cattle  are 
rounded  up,  and  after  a  feed  may  settle  down 
quietly,  many  of  them  lying  down  and  chewing 
the  cud.  Then  some  of  the  drovers  "turn  in,"  but 
the  mob  must  be  watched  all  night.  Those  dark 
Australian  nights  are  still  and  silent.  In  the 
clear  sky  above,  now  a  dark  violet  blue,  myriads 
of  stars  blaze  whitely,  afibrding  the  watchers  just 
enough  light  to  see  the  dark  forms  of  the  rumi- 
nating   beasts.     Suddenly   one    of   the    drovers 


6o  Australian  Life 

notices  a  movement  among  them,  as,  startled  by- 
something  vague  and  unascertainable,  a  dozen  of 
the  animals  blunder  to  their  feet.  In  a  very  few 
moments,  the  terror  has  been  communicated  to 
the  whole  mob,  and,  with  a  bellow  of  fright,  the 
ringleaders  dash  away.  The  men  rush  for  their 
horses,  giving  their  sleeping  mates  warning  of  the 
danger,  and  by  the  time  the  mob  is  on  the  move, 
the  cattlemen  are  spurring  their  horses  after  them. 
A  wild  ride  in  the  dark  night  begins,  when  man 
and  horse  dash  through  the  gaps  in  the  mass  of 
terrified  beasts  and  do  their  utmost  to  reach  the 
head  of  the  flying  mob.  Should  a  horse  happen 
to  stumble  and  fall,  neither  he  nor  his  rider  may 
hope  to  rise  again  from  under  the  hoofs  of  the 
maddened  beasts  behind  them.  There  is  only  one 
hope  of  checking  the  stampede,  and  that  is  to 
force  through  the  press  and  face  the  leaders  with 
the  stinging  stock-whip.  Already  one  or  two  of 
the  best-mounted  and  most  experienced  drovers 
are  in  the  front  ranks,  and  the  great  whips  are 
lashing  the  faces  of  the  foremost  beasts,  checking 
them  and  throwing  them  back  upon  those  behind 
them.  The  speed  of  the  mob  is  slackened,  and 
more  drovers  fight  their  way  through  to  the  front. 
The  bullocks  are  suddenl}'  brought  to  a  standstill, 
and  with  lowered  heads  and  heaving  sides,  they 
circle  round  and  round  as  though  considering  how 
they  may  again  break  away.  An  unsuccessful 
attempt  or  two  in  this  direction  complete  their 
subjugation,  and  the  mob  goes  meekly  back  to  its 


The  Never-Never  Land        6i 

camping-place,  all  the  more  manageable  for  the 
experience. 

The  Western  plains,  bare  and  dusty  a  few 
months  before,  are  now  knee  deep  in  waving 
grass  and  trefoil,  and  day  after  day  the  drovers 
press  their  mob  forward,  ever  southward  and  east- 
ward. Ivong  days  in  the  saddle  and  still  nights 
of  vigil  beneath  the  moon  and  stars:  the  life  is 
exacting,  but  it  has  its  share  of  excitement  or  of 
pleasure.  Henry  Lawson,  the  Australian  poet, 
describes  it  in  one  vigorous  stanza: 

The  drovers  of  the  great  stock  routes 

The  strange  Gulf  country  know. 
Where,  travelling  from  the  Southern  droughts, ' 

The  big  lean  bullocks  go ; 
And,  camped  by  night,  where  plains  lie  wide 

Like  some  old  ocean's  bed, 
The  watchmen  in  the  starlight  ride 

Round  fifteen  hundred  head.  / 

In  time,  they  reach  more  settled  country,  and 
the  farthest  terminus  of  the  longest  railway  line. 
Then  the  mob  breaks  up,  some  being  trucked 
away  to  the  big  cities  on  the  coast,  and  some  go- 
ing to  the  refrigerating  works  to  be  turned  into 
chilled  beef  or  extract  of  meat.  The  Australian 
city  dweller,  whose  business  or  pleasure  takes 
him  out  into  the  streets  in  those  quiet  hours  of 
the  morning  when  the  blackness  of  night  is  just 
turning  to  grey,  may  sometimes  see  the  mob  of 
cattle  on  the  last  stage  of  its  long  journey.     It  is 


62  Australian  Life 

a  strange  sight  for  city  streets:  the  wild-eyed  bul- 
locks, terrified  by  their  novel  surroundings,  rush- 
ing down  the  empty  thoroughfares,  with  the 
dusty  stockmen  on  their  patient  horses,  watchful 
as  ever,  riding  behind,  A  few  days  later,  the 
same  stockmen,  brown-faced  and  steadfast  of  gaze, 
may  be  seen  in  the  city  theatres  and  restaurants, 
or  out  on  the  race-course.  But  a  week  or  two  of 
the  city  is  quite  enough  for  them,  and  they  return 
to  the  Western  plains  with  the  newest  songs  stored 
in  their  memories  to  cheer  the  long  hours  of  vigil 
round  the  camp-fires. 

Along  the  stock  routes,  too,  may  be  encountered 
large  flocks  of  placid  sheep,  slowly  but  surely 
making  their  way  across  the  continent.  Each 
day  sees  the  men  in  charge  of  them  only  a  few 
miles  nearer  their  destination,  and  on  arriving  at 
an  area  of  good  country,  after  travelling  where 
pasture  is  scanty,  the  sheep  have  to  be  spelled  for 
some  days  to  recover  their  lost  condition.  A 
whole  year  may  elapse  during  one  of  these  long 
journeys,  for  the  drover's  route  sometimes  leads 
from  one  edge  of  the  continent  to  the  other. 
Fewer  men  are  required  for  droving  sheep  than 
for  cattle,  and  the  sagacious  sheep-dogs  save  the 
anxiety  of  watchfulness,  which  is  part  of  the  cat- 
tleman's life.  The  drover  usually  rides  on  horse- 
back behind  his  flock  of  sheep,  although,  of  late 
years,  cycling  drovers  may  occasionally  be  en- 
countered. There  are  other  wayfarers  in  these 
Australian  solitudes.     A  cloud  of  dust  marks  the 


The  Never-Never  Land        63 

progress  of  three  bullock  waggons,  laden  with 
bales  ol  wool,  each  drawn  by  a  long  team  of  six- 
teen or  eighteen  bullocks.  Beside  each  team 
walks  the  bullock  driver,  armed  with  a  long- 
handled  whip,  but  he  relies  less  upon  this  than 
upon  word  of  mouth  for  the  direction  of  his  stub- 
born team.  The  Australian  theory,  that  bullocks 
cannot  be  driven  without  the  use  of  the  most  vio- 
lent and  sulphurous  language  at  the  command  of 
the  driver,  is  cherished,  I  believe,  in  other  parts 
of  the  world  as  well.  The  theory  may  be  a  fal- 
lacious one,  but  the  amateur  who  has  once  at- 
tempted to  drive  a  team  of  bullocks  will  usually 
admit  that  any  man  who  can  control  them,  even 
by  the  use  of  language  that  would  under  other 
circumstances  stamp  him  as  a  blackguard,  is  en- 
titled to  something  more  than  mere  excuse. 
He  should  be  considered  worthy  of  admiration 
at  least,  for  the  driving  of  bullocks  is  an  accom- 
plishment that  few  may  attain,  however  gifted 
of  speech  they  may  be.  The  bullock  driver,  like 
the  poet,  is  born  and  not  made. 

But  in  the  Never-Never  country,  neither  bul- 
lock nor  horse  teams  can  compare  with  the  camel 
for  usefulness,  and  during  the  decade  of  dry  years, 
which  concluded  in  1903,  the  "Hooshta-man" 
has  largely  supplanted  both  bullocks  and  teamster 
in  the  arid  West.  The  camel-train  is  both  cheaper 
and  more  expeditious.  According  to  an  Austral- 
ian pastoral  paper,  published  in  1902,  the  cost  of 
transport  by  camel  was  but  little  more  than  half 


64  Australian  Life 

that  demanded  by  the  teamsters,  while  delivery 
was  efifected  in  one  half  the  time.  A  train  of  fifty 
camels  with  Oriental  drivers  provides  a  spectacle 
more  frequently  associated  with  the  oldest  civil- 
isation than  with  the  youngest.  Yet  on  the  sandy 
plains  of  the  interior,  under  the  cloudless  skies 
and  burning  Australian  sun,  it  possesses  nothing 
of  the  incongruous.  The  ungainly  beasts  sway 
along,  each  secured  to  its  immediate  neighbour 
by  a  noose  cord,  which  serves  to  keep  the  train  in 
line.  The  foremost  camel  of  all,  usually  the  hand- 
somest and  most  serviceable  beast  in  the  train,  is 
gay  with  gorgeous  trappings  of  silk,  decorated 
with  swinging  tassels  and  glittering  coins  and 
shells.  Perched  on  his  back  sits  the  Afghan 
driver,  in  his  blue  coat  and  spacious  white 
trousers  and  crowned  with  a  huge  red  turban. 
Every  camel  has  its  load:  sometimes  a  bale  of 
wool  on  either  side,  or  it  may  be  the  cumbrous 
parts  of  an  instalment  of  machinery  for  some  gold 
mine  far  away  in  the  solitudes;  while  with  every 
train  may  be  found  several  animals  burdened  with 
small  iron  tanks  of  water.  The  camels  themselves 
will  go  without  water  for  five  or  six  days,  but 
when  it  is  obtainable  will  drink  a  surprising 
quantity  of  the  fluid  without  appearing  to  satisfy 
their  thirst.  The  camel  is  a  welcome  adjunct  to 
desert  Australia,  but  the  Australians  take  excep- 
tion to  the  Afghan  drivers  for  many  reasons.  Up 
to  the  present,  however,  it  has  not  been  made 
clear  that  the  white  man  is  able  to  manage  a  train 


■^  UJ 


The  Never-Never  Land        65 

of  sour-tempered  camels,  the  animals  apparently- 
finding  some  distinction  between  the  light  skins 
and  dark  in  favour  of  the  latter.  Therefore  the 
man  who  cries  "Hooshta"  in  the  wilderness  is 
usually  an  alien,  which  is  quite  enough  to  make 
the  average  Australian  prejudiced  against  the 
camel  and  all  his  surroundings. 

The  introduction  of  the  camel  into  Australia 
was  due  to  some  of  the  more  ambitious  exploring 
ventures  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  and  the 
finest  and  most  serviceable  camels  to  be  seen  are 
the  descendants  from  this  stock.  Their  worth 
was  so  fully  proved  during  the  early  days  of  the 
Western  Australian  goldfields  that  many  animals 
were  imported  with  their  drivers  from  India  and 
Afghanistan,  but  they  have  not  proved  so  tract- 
able and  useful  as  the  stock  reared  in  Australia. 

In  the  Australian  interior  occur  those  salt  lakes 
that,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  are  lakes 
only  in  name  and  appearance.  Seen  from  a  dis- 
tance, they  are  vast  sheets  of  shimmering  water, 
dotted  with  islands  robed  in  the  freshest  green. 
A  closer  examination  shows  them  to  be  only  lake 
beds  coated  with  a  glittering  saline  incrustation, 
while  the  fair  prospect  of  island  and  green  forest 
disappears.  Everywhere  in  this  region,  water 
may  be  obtained  by  digging,  but  it  is  as  salt  as 
the  sea,  or  at  least  so  brackish  as  to  be  quite  un- 
drinkable.  Not  very  long  ago,  as  time  is  counted 
in  the  history  of  the  universe,  this  land  was  the 
ocean  bed,  and  now  when  the  rays  of  the  sun  light 


66  Australian  Life 

these  great  sand  basins,  the  whiteness  of  the  salt 
turns  to  a  shimmering  silver,  and  from  a  distance 
it  seems  as  though  the  sea  were  still  there — silent, 
misty,  and  boundless.  The  explorers  tell  tales 
of  strange  mirages  of  ships  under  full  sail,  but  in- 
verted so  that  the  tip  of  the  masts  met  the  mast 
tips  of  a  lower  ship,  apparently  the  reflection  in 
the  water  of  the  topmost  one.  Between  these  salt 
lakes  are  sand  hummocks,  where  the  stiff  spinifex 
grass  grows,  in  spite  of  the  aridity  and  saltness  of 
th^oil. 

The  past  twelve  years  have  seen  the  Australian 
losing  ground  in  the  Never- Never  Land.  Runs 
have  been  abandoned,  and  the  discomfited  or 
ruined  run-holder  has  retreated  nearer  the  coast. 
"There  is  now  less  of  settled  Australia  than  there 
was  twenty  years  ago,"  wrote  a  mournful  Aus- 
tralian, "for  the  drought  has  driven  in  many  of 
the  men  who  had  gone  out  back."!  But  at  the 
end  of  the  year  1902  came  the  break-up  of  the 
drought.  Lakes  that  have  been  dry  for  ten  years 
now  hold  ten  feet  of  water,  and  creeks  are  running 
that  have  season  after  season  been  choked  with 
dust.  The  past  of  Australia  points  to  the  fact 
that  a  cycle  of  good  seasons  is  at  hand,  when 
flocks  and  herds  will  double  themselves  in  one 
year  and  repeat  the  process  the  next,  while  there 
is  abundance  of  rich  pasture  for  all.  Then,  gain- 
ing confidence,  the  adventurers  will  return  one  by 
one  to  the  alluring  back  country,  richer  for  the 
experience  of  the  past.     Already  the  enterprising 


The  Never-Never  Land        67 

Australians  are  planning  to  pierce  it  with  a  rail- 
way from  east  to  west,  and  with  another  from 
south  to  north.  They  may  be  driven  back  for  a 
time,  but  they  will  never  rest  until  the  last  secret 
it  holds  is  wrested  from  the  Never-Never  country. 
Meanwhile,  it  is  there,  and  supplies  the  ele- 
ment of  mystery  and  the  touch  of  imagination  to 
the  life  of  a  people  that  is,  in  the  main,  essentially 
practical  and  utilitarian.  The  city  clerk,  hurry- 
ing to  his  work  through  the  crowded  streets,  feels 
on  his  face  the  fierce  north  wind  that  has  blown 
over  a  thousand  miles  of  arid  sand,  and  is  re- 
minded of  the  solitude  and  the  great  emptiness  of 
the  desert  on  the  fringe  of  which  he  lives.  The 
selector's  wife,  shading  her  eyes  from  the  sun  just 
setting  over  the  western  ranges,  pictures  her  ab- 
sent husband  toiling  behind  the  slow-moving 
sheep  across  the  level  plains  far  away  beyond  the 
ranges.  The  bushmen  themselves  tell  wonderful 
stories  of  the  treasure  hidden  away  in  the  far  soli- 
tudes "where  the  pelican  builds  her  nest,"  and  it 
inspires  the  poets  and  writers  with  something  of 
its  own  mystery  and  strange  beauty.  "The 
wind,"  writes  one,  "comes  to  you  over  the  great 
uninhabited  spaces,  desolate  grey  distances,  and 
you  feel  somehow  or  other  that  it  would  have  a 
better  story  to  tell,  and  a  sweeter  and  more 
familiar  appeal  to  your  heart,  if  it  had  the  human 
note  in  it,  if  its  sounds  were  lightened  with  a 
laugh  or  saddened  with  a  sigh.  .  .  .  All 
Australia  in  its  waste  places  is  waiting  for  live 


68  Australian  Life 

men  with  the  fire  of  life  in  them,  and  a  power  of 
hand  and  brain  to  translate  what  is  barren  and 
unlovely  into  something  that  shall  be  of  use  to 
man,  and  beautiful  as  his  desire." 

There,  in  a  word,  is  the  problem  that  remains 
to  be  solved  by  the  great  Australian  statesman. 
It  is  a  continent  of  three  million  square  miles,  and 
contains  less  than  four  million  people,  and  yet  the 
history  of  recent  years  shows  how  few  immigrants 
are  arriving  to  fill  the  empty  places.  For  more 
than  ten  years,  immigration  has  been  at  a  stand- 
still, while  the  surplus  millions  of  the  Old  World 
have  been  pouring  into  America  and  Africa. 
Recognising  this,  the  politicians  are,  at  least, 
abandoning  their  cry  of  "Australia  for  the  Aus- 
tralians," and  are  casting  about  for  means  where- 
by they  may  provide  Australians  for  Australia. 


CHAPTKR  VI 

ON  THE  WALI^ABY  TRACK 

**  f  AM  not  ashamed  to  confess  that  I  have  had 
1  to  carry  my  swag  in  my  time,"  declared  an 
Austrahan  Premier  not  very  long  ago.  Hund- 
reds of  men  occupying  positions  of  wealth  and 
influence  in  Australia  could  truthfully  make  the 
same  avowal,  for  upon  the  wallaby  track,  as  upon 
the  high  seas,  may  be  found  men  of  all  sorts  and 
conditions.  Long  ago,  an  Australian  public  man 
defined  the  swagman  as  one  who  goes  about  look- 
ing for  work,  and  praying  devoutly  that  he  may 
never  find  it.  The  epigram  has,  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent, passed  into  a  tradition,  although  it  is  mani- 
festly unjust  to  all  but  a  very  small  proportion 
of  the  men  who  carry  their  swags  through  the 
Australian  bush. 

The  existence  of  the  swagman  proclaims  no- 
thing so  loudly  as  the  uncertainty  and  precarious 
nature  of  pastoral  employment  in  Australia.  If 
there  is  one  thing  upon  which  the  farmer  and 
pastoralist  can  rely,  it  is  a  regular  supply  of  com- 
petent men  for  the  busy  time  of  shearing,  lamb- 
marking,  drafting,  and  harvesting.  There  is  no 
69 


70  Australian  Life 

difl&culty  in  obtaining  the  extra  labour  required 
at  these  seasons,  and  no  question  of  paying  rail- 
way fares  or  incurring  any  unnecessary  expense. 
In  any  district  where  there  is  a  prospect  of  obtain- 
ing such  work,  the  man  with  the  swag  may  be 
found,  and  he  is  usually  a  capable  and  experi- 
enced labourer.  If  he  is  not,  his  prospect  of  ob- 
taining work,  or  of  keeping  it  should  he  obtain  it, 
is  a  very  slight  one.  The  system  so  far  as  it  has 
been  outlined  is  absolutely  a  convenient  one  for 
the  pastoralist,  who  is  able  to  pick  and  choose 
among  the  many  men  who  continually  apply  for 
work,  and  to  replace  an  incompetent  man  at  a 
day's  notice  with  one  thoroughly  up  to  his  work. 
But  the  system  has  engendered  an  unwritten  bush 
law,  which  entails  a  considerable  expense  upon 
the  station-owners,  and  probably  is  responsible  for 
much  of  the  obloquy  which  has  been  heaped  upon 
the  "swaggie." 

The  law  in  question,  the  observance  of  which 
has  become  one  of  the  standing  grievances  of  the 
pastoralist,  is  that  every  swagman  asking  for 
work  shall  at  least  be  given  food  enough  to  carry 
him  on  to  the  next  station.  It  need  hardly  be 
said  that  the  hospitality  extended  to  the  man  with 
the  swag  varies  in  degree  and  in  kind.  Some 
station-owners  decline  to  observe  the  rule  at  all, 
and  advertise  that  all  applications  for  work  must 
be  made  to  their  accredited  agent  in  some  neigh- 
bouring township.  Others  expect  some  work  to 
be  performed  in  return,  such  as  the  cutting  of 


On  the  Wallaby  Track  71 

jSrewood  or  the  carrying  of  water.  Others  give  a 
ration  of  fiour  and  of  uncooked  meat,  while  the 
few  adhere  to  the  old  order  of  things  by  provid- 
ing a  hut  for  the  men's  accommodation,  and  tea 
and  sugar  and  even  tobacco  as  well  as  flour  and 
meat.  The  station-owners  whose  treatment  of 
the  swagman  is  based  on  so  liberal  a  scale  argue 
that  the  expense  is  justified  in  many  ways.  On 
their  runs,  lighted  matches  are  not  likely  to  be 
dropped  in  the  dry  grass,  gates  are  not  left  open, 
nor  fences  broken  down,  and  in  many  other  ways 
the  friendly  feeling  of  the  swagman  saves  them 
from  annoyance  and  loss. 

There  is,  of  course,  a  class  which  abuses  this 
hospitality,  loafing  from  station  to  station  and 
sponging  upon  all  who  will  encourage  them. 
Many  of  these  "sundowners"  have  a  regular 
round,  and  show  some  ingenuity  in  evading  the 
danger  of  work;  but  the  normal  condition  of  the 
pastoral  districts  does  not  encourage  their  ex- 
istence. In  Australia,  the  natural  habitat  of  the 
professional  idler  at  the  present  day  is  in  one  of 
the  big  cities,  and  the  sundowner,  as  a  rule,  is  a 
survival  or  a  tradition  of  a  past  era. 

The  man  in  search  of  work  in  the  bush  has  his 
own  title  for  himself  and  for  others  similarly  situ- 
ated. He  may  be  a  man  of  some  substance,  who 
rides  a  good  horse,  and  leads  another  on  which 
are  packed  all  the  necessities  for  travel.  He 
may  strap  his  heavy  swag  to  the  handle-bars  of 
a  bicycle,  and  hanging  his  other  impedimenta 


72  Australian  Life 

picturesquely  on  the  frame  of  the  machine,  plug 
earnestly  over  the  dusty  roads  and  rugged  tracks 
of  the  back  country.  Or  he  may  sling  "bluey" 
over  his  shoulders,  and  with  waterbag  in  one  hand 
and  billy-can  in  the  other,  tramp  steadfastly  along 
the  wallaby  tracks  with  a  trusted  mate.  In  any 
case,  he  is  a  "  traveller, ' '  and  does  not  care  to  be 
referred  to  by  any  other  term. 

Among  travellers,  the  man  who  rides  his  own 
horse  enjoys  a  deserved  prestige.  His  application 
for  work  is  likely  to  receive  first  consideration 
from  managers  and  owners  of  stations.  When 
he  wishes  to  replenish  his  "tucker-bag,"  he  can 
usually  approach  the  station  store-keeper  with 
money  in  his  hand;  for  he  is  careful  to  preserve 
his  status.  From  the  tucker-bag,  a  sort  of  pillow- 
slip with  the  mouth  in  the  middle,  which  is  slung 
across  the  front  of  the  saddle  so  that  a  bulging 
end  hangs  down  on  either  side,  he  gets  his  bush- 
name  of  "bag-man."  The  bag-man,  who  is  gen- 
erally a  shearer  first  and  a  handy-man  when 
shearing  is  over,  probably  has  a  round  of  stations 
where  he  can  rely  upon  a  pen  at  shearing  time, 
as  well  as  station  work  of  other  kinds. 

The  old  order  of  bushmen  still  affect  to  look 
down  upon  the  bush  cyclist  as  an  innovation  and 
a  destroyer  of  time-honoured'  customs  and  prac- 
tices. There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  genuine 
utility  of  the  bicycle  to  the  bushman,  who  con- 
trives to  cover  immense  distances  on  his  machine, 
and  to  carry  with  him  a  quantity  of  luggage  that 


On  the  Wallaby  Track  73 

would  probably  surprise  the  city  cyclist.  It  is  on 
record  that  one  of  these  men  rode  seven  hundred 
miles  in  eleven  days  on  a  bicycle  which,  with  the 
belongings  he  had  fastened  upon  it,  weighed  more 
than  a  hundred  pounds.  No  bush  track  is  too 
rough  for  the  shearer  cyclist,  and  the  impromptu 
repairs  sometimes  eflfected  in  an  emergency,  if 
somewhat  unorthodox,  nevertheless  bear  testi- 
mony to  the  ingenuity  and  versatility  of  the 
Australian  bushman. 

But  the  real  hero  of  the  wallaby  track  is  the 
footman,  who,  with  his  swag  slung  over  his 
shoulder  and  his  billy  in  his  hand,  tramps  from 
one  edge  of  the  continent  to  the  other  with  a  pa- 
tient courage  that  is  not  always  recognised.  The 
man  who  can  camp  with  a  couple  of  these  travel- 
lers, sharing  their  billy  of  tea  and  halving  with 
them  his  plug  of  tobacco,  may  go  away  enriched 
by  many  a  story  grimly  humorous  or  charged 
with  valuable  human  experience.  The  man  with 
the  swag  faces  the  hardship  of  his  life  with  a 
brave  jest,  as  the  very  argot  of  the  wallaby  track 
will  testify.  He  declares,  with  a  rueful  look  at 
his  swag,  that  he  is  "waltzing  with  Matilda," 
calling  up  by  the  quaint  simile  a  laughable  vision 
of  some  heavy-footed  bush  girl  unskilled  in  the 
dance.  The  rags  that  serve  him  for  socks  are 
"Prince  Alberts";  he  lodges  each  night  in  "the 
Moon  and  Stars  Hotel,  ground  floor."  He  illus- 
trates the  uneventfulness  of  his  life  and  the  taci- 
turnity it  induces  by  a  story  which  may  be  heard 


74  Australian  Life 

in  some  form  or  other  in  any  part  of  Australia, 
and  has  been  christened  "The  Great  Australian 
Joke."     One  variant  of  it  runs  as  follows: 

Two  mates,  Bill  and  Jim,  were  carrying  their 
swags  through  a  very  inhospitable  stretch  of 
country,  and  both  were  completely  down  on  their 
luck.  One  afternoon  they  passed  a  dry  water- 
hole,  on  the  edge  of  which  was  the  not  unusual 
adornment  of  a  dead  beast.  When  they  had  left 
it  some  distance  behind  them.  Bill  opened  his 
mouth  for  the  first  time  that  day,  saying,  "Jim, 
did  you  see  that  dead  bullock?"  About  dusk, 
they  came  to  a  creek,  where  they  camped,  lighted 
a  fire,  and  made  a  damper  and  a  billy  of  tea.  A 
couple  of  pipes  were  smoked,  and  as  blankets 
were  being  unrolled,  Jim  also  spoke,  saying,  "It 
was  n't  a  bullock,  it  was  a  horse."  When  the 
sun  rose  next  day,  a  scorching  hot  wind  was 
blowing,  but  the  travellers  had  to  push  on,  for  the 
tucker-bags  were  nearly  empty  and  they  were  in 
a  bad  country.  As  the  sun  grew  more  and  more 
powerful,  they  felt  the  necessity  for  camping  and 
a  rest,  but  they  came  to  no  water,  and  must  needs 
tramp  wearily  on.  Suddenly  Bill  threw  his  swag 
angrily  on  the  ground,  and  turning  fiercely  upon 
Jim,  spoke  yet  again,  saying,  "There  's  too  much 
blessed  argument  about  this  outfit  for  me. ' ' 

The  philosophy  learned  upon  the  wallaby  track 
teaches  those  who  walk  it  to  mock  at  their  own 
misfortunes,  and  to  meet  privation,  hardship,  and 
danger  with  a  jest  upon  their  lips.     The  traveller 


On  the  Wallaby  Track  75 

sets  out  on  a  long  journey  with  an  equipment 
that,  at  the  first  glance,  would  appear  to  be  lu- 
dicrously inadequate.  When  unrolled,  his  swag 
consists  of  nothing  more  than  a  pair  of  coarse  blue 
blankets,  a  few  spare  garments,  and  some  odds 
and  ends,  hardly  worth  the  trouble  of  carrying. 
With  a  few  shillings  in  his  pocket,  to  be  hus- 
banded most  economically,  and  enough  flour,  tea, 
and  sugar  to  last  him  a  week,  he  is  ready  for  the 
track. 

Of  course,  the  experienced  traveller  is  master 
of  all  sorts  of  devices  to  make  life  on  the  track 
more  bearable.  There  is  an  art  in  the  very  rolling 
of  the  swag,  and  in  the  adjustment  of  the  straps 
which  secure  the  ends  to  that  which  forms  the 
loop  through  which  the  arm  is  passed,  which 
materially  lessens  the  weight  of  the  swagman's 
burden.  It  requires  experience  to  make  a  light 
and  palatable  damper,  just  of  the  right  thickness, 
and  neither  doughy  nor  hardbaked,  and  the 
compounding  of  billy  tea  has  been  reduced  to  a 
science,  upon  which  lengthy  essays  have  been 
written.  The  billy-can,  a  tin  pot  with  a  wire 
handle  across  the  top,  and  usually  fitted  with  a  lid, 
is  the  swagman's  only  cooking  utensil.  He  may 
carry  two,  one  fitting  inside  the  other,  the  larger 
one  being  used  for  boiling  meat,  while  the 
smaller  one  is  at  once  kettle  and  teapot.  The 
praises  of  billy  tea  have  been  sung  by  all  who 
have  picnicked  in  the  bush,  its  excellence  being 
probably  due  to  the  infusion  of  the  tea  leaves  at 


76  Australian  Life 

the  very  moment  when  the  water  is  beginning  to 
boil.  At  this  critical  juncture,  the  bushman 
throws  in  a  handful  of  cheap  tea,  and  a  good  al- 
lowance of  moist  brown  sugar,  stirring  vigorously 
with  a  twig  of  eucalyptus.  The  billy  is  then  set 
aside  for  a  moment  while  the  tea  leaves  settle, 
and  the  brew  is  drunk  scalding  hot  from  quart 
pots  known  as  "pannikins." 

It  sometimes  happens  that  a  number  of  travel- 
lers meet  at  a  favourite  camping-place,  when  a 
billy-boiling  contest  may  ensue.  Many  bushmen 
are  proud  of  the  possession  of  a  billy  that  is  a 
quick  boiler,  that  is,  old  and  worn  thin,  but  kept 
free  from  any  coating  of  non-conducting  soot. 
But  billy-boiling  contests  usually  resolve  them- 
selves into  questions  of  individual  skill  in  the 
management  of  a  camp-fire.  In  the  great  tragedy 
of  the  bush,  the  billy-can  also  plays  its  part,  for 
when  the  traveller  has  turned  by  mistake  along 
the  lonely  track  that  leads  nowhere,  and  finds 
himself  without  water  or  food  in  the  heart  of  a 
pathless  waste,  he  scratches  his  dying  message 
upon  the  billy-can.  Sometimes  it  is  his  name, 
or  a  few  words  that  tell  the  whole  story  of 
the  tragedy,  which  is  still  so  usual  an  event  in 
the  "back  country"  as  to  pass  almost  without 
comment. 

There  are  other  signs  which  distinguish  the 
experienced  "traveller,"  in  addition  to  his  work- 
manlike swag  and  the  deftness  with  which  he 
provides  for  his  own  comfort  in  camp.     He  gen- 


On  the  Wallaby  Track  "]"] 

erally  knows  the  country  well;  possesses  a  ready 
tact  in  dealing  with  station-owners,  managers, 
store-keepers,  and  cooks,  which  ensures  full 
tucker-bags;  and  adds  to  his  fare  by  considerable 
skill  in  fishing  and  trapping.  He  also  knows 
where  work  is  likely  to  be  obtained,  and  it  must 
be  said  for  him  that,  having  once  gained  employ- 
ment, he  is  as  industrious  and  versatile  a  labourer 
as  could  be  found  anywhere  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  Shearing,  fencing,  tank-digging,  horse- 
breaking,  and  a  score  of  other  accomplishments 
are  at  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  and  yet  this  handy- 
man of  the  bush  can  only  expect  partial  employ- 
ment. Few  swagmen  are  in  work  for  more  than 
six  months  out  of  the  twelve. 

His  real  weakness  is  disclosed  when  the  work 
is  over,  and  with  a  good  cheque  in  his  pocket,  he 
once  more  rolls  his  swag  and  turns  his  face  to  the 
east  and  home.  He  knows  by  past  experience 
that  his  only  chance  of  making  that  fresh  start  in 
life  of  which  he  so  often  talks  is  to  keep  his 
cheque  intact  until  he  reaches  his  destination. 
But  the  bush  public-house,  with  the  grinning, 
obsequious  landlord,  and  the  girl  smirking  behind 
the  bar,  proves  an  irresistible  attraction.  Just  a 
drink  or  so  resolves  itself  into  a  day's  steady 
soaking.  The  cheque  passes  into  the  keeping  of 
the  landlord,  and  when  the  bushman  finally  re- 
gains sobriety,  after  a  week's  steady  spreeing,  it 
is  only  to  learn  that  he  has  spent  all  his  earnings 
except  a  very  small  balance.     With  curses  upon 


78  Australian  Life 

his  own  folly,  and  many  resolves  not  to  repeat  the 
experience  next  time,  he  once  more  faces  the 
wallaby  track,  and  the  heart-breaking  search  for 
work  which  is  so  difl&cult  to  obtain. 

It  may  be  that  if  it  were  not  for  the  bush  shanty 
and  the  bad  liquor  sold  in  it,  the  number  of  travel- 
lers on  the  Australian  bush  tracks  would  be 
lessened  by  more  than  half,  and  the  pastoralist, 
instead  of  complaining  of  the  drain  upon  his 
stores,  would  grumble  at  the  scarcity  of  experi- 
enced labour.  The  steady  swagman  usually  be- 
comes a  selector  in  time,  and  marries  and  settles 
down  in  his  own  bush  home.  The  failure  of  his 
crops  may  drive  him  out  upon  the  tracks  again, 
to  knock  together  a  cheque  while  his  wife  looks 
after  the  home  and  the  stock.  That,  however,  is 
only  a  temporary  expedient,  and  after  the  shear- 
ing or  the  fencing  contract  is  over,  he  will  return 
to  his  clearing  with  money  in  his  pocket  and 
hopeful  for  better  seasons.  Some  of  the  neatest 
and  most  prosperous  little  homesteads  in  the  Aus- 
tralian agricultural  districts  have  been  won  by 
men  who  began  with  a  cheque  earned  while  they 
were  carrying  their  swags  in  the  "back  country." 

It  is  the  drinking,  improvident  man  who  carries 
the  swag  all  through  his  life,  and  ends  on  some 
wholly  forgotten  track  with  the  crows  blackening 
the  trees  above  him.  The  hardships  of  the  life, 
and  the  constant  exposure  to  weather  of  all  kinds, 
must  have  their  effect  even  upon  the  hardiest  con- 
stitutions, and  the  excesses  indulged  in  play  their 


On  the  Wallaby  Track  79 

part  in  wrecking  the  swagman's  health.  Many- 
end  their  days  in  the  country  hospitals,  which  are 
so  largely  supported  by  collections  taken  up  at 
every  shearing-shed,  and  to  which  the  swagman 
has  usually  contributed  generously  at  some  time 
in  his  career.  Even  the  old  age  pension,  which 
the  needy  who  are  past  work  can  obtain  in  some 
of  the  Australian  States,  is  not  for  the  swagman, 
whose  wanderings  from  state  to  state  deprive  him 
of  the  right  to  claim  this  dole. 

In  spite  of  the  hardships  and  disadvantages  of 
the  life,  however,  the  swagman  may  be  found  on 
every  road  and  track  in  Australia,  He  is  an  ob- 
ject of  suspicion,  and  liable  at  any  moment  to  find 
himself  accused  of  some  crime  of  which  he  may 
not  even  have  heard.  He  is  accounted  the  cause 
of  all  bush  fires,  and  is  judged  by  the  worst 
specimens  of  his  class  and  not  by  the  average. 
And  yet,  having  once  learned  the  fascination  of 
the  open  road,  it  never  loses  its  charm  for  him.  I 
have  an  old  friend,  settled  now  in  a  pleasant  town 
on  the  Victorian  coast,  with  money  in  the  bank, 
won  by  him  on  the  Western  Australian  goldfields. 
To  use  his  own  term,  he  is  "an  independent  man. ' ' 
But  when  spring  comes,  and  old  Ben  gets  a  whiff 
of  the  bursting  wattle,  the  call  of  the  open  road 
proves  irresistible.  He  says  he  must  go  and  have 
a  look  at  the  country,  and  accordingly  greases  his 
bluchers  and  rolls  his  swag,  and  with  a  whistle  to 
his  dog,  is  off  afoot.  A  month  later,  he  comes 
back  looking  younger,  and  full  of  bush  tidings. 


8o  Australian  Life 

Some  "chaps"  have  bottomed  on  good  wash  dirt 
over  the  range  from  Lonely  Gully,  where  he  had 
always  said  the  indications  were  favourable.  An 
old  crony  in  the  Wimmera  district  has  just  put  in 
another  acre  of  vines,  and  complained  that  the 
parrots,  worse  than  ever  this  year,  have  not  left 
him  a  single  cherry.  The  farmers  in  the  Mailee 
are  complaining  of  the  locusts  already,  and  he 
(Ben)  would  like  to  know  whether  the  Govern- 
ment ever  will  do  anything  about  it;  and  so  on, 
with  many  a  yarn  of  bird  and  beast  observed  by 
the  way,  of  bush  publicans,  civil  and  uncivil, 
and  of  "chaps"  hard-up  or  humping  their  swag 
in  deadly  earnest.  Old  Ben  likes  it  all.  May  he 
live  many  a  long  year  to  carry  his  swag  through 
the  glad  bush  in  the  first  joyous  flush  of  spring! 


CHAPTER  VII 

IN   TIME   OF  DROUGHT 

THE  prosperity  of  pastoral  Australia  depends 
upon  the  rainfall,  and  as  the  dying  autumn 
ushers  in  the  rainy  season,  the  squatter  waits 
with  anxiety  for  the  first  signs  of  the  change  of 
seasons.  The  average  annual  rainfall  of  the 
greater  part  of  pastoral  Australia  is  no  more  than 
twenty  inches,  although  in  some  districts  a  much 
greater  amount  of  moisture  may  be  expected. 
When  the  long-expected  rains  come,  there  is  a 
succession  of  heavy,  drenching  showers,  which 
fill  the  lagoons  and  water-holes,  and  convert  the 
trickling  creek  beds  and  dry  water-courses  into 
foaming  yellow  rivers.  Afterwards  comes  the 
sun,  causing  the  grass  to  shoot  up  bravely,  and 
every  shrub  and  herb  to  sprout  vigorously,  cover- 
ing the  whole  face  of  the  land  in  a  mantle  of 
smiling  green. 

Should    the    season    prove    an    exceptionally 
favourable  one,  the  showers  are  repeated  at  in- 
tervals during  the  winter  and  early  spring,  and 
the  pastoralist  sees  the  wattles  bloom  with  the 
8x 


82  Australian  Life 

happy  certainty  of  a  good  year.  Summer  suns 
and  scorching  hot  winds  may  parch  every  vestige 
of  grass  from  the  face  of  the  land,  but  that  he  ac- 
cepts as  a  matter  of  course.  The  stock  will  live 
through  it  all,  and  prosper  and  multiplj'^  in  a 
manner  quite  astounding. 

Sometimes  these  good  seasons  follow  one  an- 
other in  succession,  or  are  broken  only  by  a  year 
when  the  autumn  rains  are  light  and  unsatisfac- 
tory, and  the  summer  sees  an  unwelcome  scarcity 
of  water.  The  history  of  pastoral  Australia  points 
to  the  fact  that  just  as  these  good  seasons  have 
moved  in  cycles,  so  have  they  been  followed  by 
a  succession  of  lean  years,  terminating  in  a 
drought  during  which  the  grass  has  never 
sprouted,  and  the  edible  shrubs  have  been  eaten 
down  to  the  very  root  by  the  starving  stock.  In 
times  such  as  these,  want  of  food  and  want  of 
water  have  caused  terrible  mortality  among  the 
flocks  and  herds  of  the  Commonwealth. 

In  1 89 1,  there  were  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
four  million  sheep  in  Australia.  Then  came  a 
long  series  of  dry  years,  culminating  in  the  ex- 
ceptionally bad  ones  of  1901  and  1902,  by  which 
time  the  flocks  had  shrunk  to  less  than  half  that 
number.  These  figures  are  more  eloquent  of  the 
terrible  animal  sufiering  endured  than  any  writ- 
ten words  could  be.  They  mean  financial  loss, 
too,  and  ruined  hopes,  and  the  abandonment  of 
homes  created  by  the  unflagging  toil  of  a  lifetime. 
Here  is  a  brief  story,  chosen  from  among  a  num- 


In  Time  of  Drought  83 

ber  told  in  the  Australian  newspapers  concerning 
the  havoc  wrought  by  drought: 

Ridley  Williams  had  occupied  Burbank  Station 
for  thirty  years.  In  the  'eighties,  he  thought  he 
was  a  rich  man,  for  three  thousand  calves  were 
being  branded  each  year.  Then  came  the  bad 
seasons,  and  in  1902,  only  two  calves  were 
branded.  Just  then  the  rains  came,  and  the  grass 
sprang  as  it  had  not  done  for  years.  He  looked 
round  and  reflected  that  it  might  come  right  after 
all.  But  he  considered  it  was  only  annual  grass 
and  light  herbage,  that  the  old  drought-resisting 
plants  were  gone.  He  counted  the  cost  of  re- 
stocking, he  counted  the  risk;  then,  plucking  up 
courage,  he  packed  his  portmanteau,  sent  on 
what  few  head  of  stock  were  left,  and  abandoned 
Burbank,  "  improvements  and  all." 

That  is  the  story  so  far  as  it  goes.  The  sequel 
occurs  readily  enough  to  the  imagination.  Into 
the  run  abandoned  by  this  pioneer,  another  will 
surely  step,  perhaps  to  be  favoured  by  good  sea- 
sons and  to  achieve  a  rapid  prosperity.  Or  per- 
haps he  will  but  repeat  the  experience  of  his 
predecessor;  for  judgment,  industry,  and  business 
ability  count  for  nothing  against  the  fickle  climate 
of  Australia. 

One  day  from  the  life  of  drought-stricken  Aus-\ 
tralia  will  serve  to  describe  the  terrible  struggle  \ 
with  nature  that  is  carried  on  through  so  many    j 
bitter  years.     Sunrise  comes  with  a  fiery  red  glow   j 
and  a  scorching  wind,  so  dry  and  blasting  that  it/ 


84  Australian  Life 

seems  to  come  from  some  white-hot  furnace. 
After  a  hasty  breakfast,  washed  down  by  scald- 
ing, milkless  tea,  the  pastoralist  throws  himself 
into  the  saddle,  and  rides  away  to  the  big  station 
tanks  to  superintend  the  work  already  going  on 
there.  Round  the  shrunken  pool  of  yellow  water 
stands  a  row  of  sheep,  unable  from  sheer  weak- 
ness to  extricate  themselves  from  the  mud  into 
which  they  have  rushed  in  their  eagerness  to 
drink.  Some  are  already  dead,  while  men  are 
busily  employed  in  drawing  the  survivors  from 
the  trap  into  which  they  have  fallen.  Their 
owner  looks  at  the  pathetic,  bleating  animals, 
mere  skeletons  covered  by  wool  and  hide,  with  a 
dull  wonder  that  they  have  lived  so  long,  and  a 
dead  certainty  that  they  cannot  live  much  longer. 

He  rides  on.  On  all  sides  are  skeletons  and 
decaying  carcasses,  with  gorged  crows  flapping 
lazily  away  before  him.  Not  a  blade  of  grass  to 
be  seen  anywhere,  nothing  but  the  scanty  black 
green  foliage  of  the  gums,  and  in  the  distance  the 
grey,  dusty  mulga  scrub.  He  heads  for  the  scrub, 
crossing  the  creek-bed,  now  dry  and  choked  with 
dust.  Men  are  cutting  down  the  mulga,  the  only 
food  the  station  now  affords  to  the  starving  sheep. 
It  is  the  last  resort,  and  the  animals  eat  it:  not 
eagerly,  even  though  they  be  starving,  for  it  is 
tough  and  uninviting. 

His  next  visit  is  paid  to  his  stud  flock,  once  the 
pride  of  the  station,  and  still  cherished  with  care, 
for  it  represents  the  only  hope  for  the  future. 


In  Time  of  Drought  85 

From  a  deep  water-hole,  a  man  is  pumping  water 
into  troughs,  while  another  is  opening  bags  of 
chafif  and  spreading  their  contents  about  mangers 
of  hessian,  stretched  across  upright  saplings. 
This  is  hand-feeding,  and  an  expensive  business, 
for  the  chaff  has  to  be  brought  many  hundreds  of 
miles  by  boat  and  train,  and  last  of  all  by  team  or 
camel-train.  Each  sheep  costs  him  sixpence  a 
week  to  feed,  but  as  long  as  he  is  able  to  provide 
or  to  borrow  the  money,  it  must  go  on.  There 
is  nothing  else  to  do. 

The  sun  climbs  higher  in  the  heavens,  and  the 
feeble  sheep  creep  listlessly  into  the  shade  of  the 
gum  trees.  Some  of  the  men  set  about  removing 
the  hides  and  wool  of  those  that  have  recently 
died.  Everything  seems  at  its  last  gasp,  and  the 
choking  wind  sweeps  across  the  sun-baked  land, 
smothering  everything  with  dust  and  grit.  The 
very  air  is  foul  with  the  thousands  of  decaying 
carcasses  lying  around.  Weary  and  dispirited, 
the  owner  of  this  desolation  turns  his  jaded  horse 
back  to  the  homestead,  to  receive  what  sympathy 
and  comfort  his  careworn  wife  is  able  to  give  him. 

The  sufferings  of  the  domestic  animals  in 
drought  time  are  shared  by  the  wild  birds  and 
animals  of  Australia,  until  these  are  forced  to  lay 
aside  their  timidity  by  want  of  water  and  food. 
At  such  times,  it  is  interesting  to  camp  by  a 
water-hole  and  observe  the  wild  things  as  they 
come  to  drink.  With  the  very  first  streak  of 
dawn  comes  a  mob  of  kangaroos,  betraying  their 


86  Australian  Life 

arrival,  as  they  hop  along,  by  the  thud  of  their 
great  tails.  After  them  come  birds:  parrots  of  all 
kinds,  gorgeous  in  green  and  blue  and  scarlet; 
screaming  cockatoos,  all  gleaming  white,  or 
modest  in  pink  and  grey;  magpies,  kookaburras, 
crows,  and  doves  in  hundreds,  with  countless 
smaller  birds.  Screaming  and  chattering,  they 
fly  away  as  a  drove  of  scudding  emus  reaches 
the  edge  of  the  water,  peering  suspiciously  on 
this  side  and  on  that  before  lowering  their  heads 
to  the  water.  The  imported  rabbit  is  everywhere, 
and  makes  a  good  fight  against  the  drought,  as 
against  every  means  devised  for  his  destruction. 
But  before  the  sun  is  well  up,  the  wild  animals 
have  taken  their  toll  of  the  water-holes,  and  the 
procession  of  sheep,  cattle,  and  horses  begins  to 
arrive.  It  is  only  in  very  severe  years  that  the 
wild  birds  and  animals  die  by  reason  of  the 
drought,  but  that  occurred  in  1902.  It  was  no 
uncommon  thing  in  that  year  to  find  birds  dead 
of  starvation,  for,  although  these  could  usually 
procure  water,  the  supply  of  insect  and  other  food 
was  so  scanty  that  they  haunted  the  camps  of 
men,  on  the  look-out  for  scraps  of  food.  In  1903, 
an  Act  was  passed  by  the  Parliament  of  New 
South  Wales  making  the  destruction  of  kanga- 
roos, opossums,  and  other  wild  animals  illegal 
for  some  years,  the  reason  being  that,  owing  to  the 
drought,  these  animals  had  become  so  scarce  that 
their  total  extermination  seemed  imminent.  The 
last  effect  of  this  great  drought  was  the  destruc- 


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In  Time  of  Drought  87 

tion  of  areas  of  forest,  the  deep-rooted  Australian 
trees  actually  perishing  for  want  of  moisture. 
Never  before  in  the  records  of  the  history  of  the 
continent  had  the  effects  of  the  drought  been  so 
far-reaching. 

Such  an  experience,  quite  without  precedent 
during  the  white  man's  occupation  of  Australia, 
has  not  been  without  the  educational  effect.  The 
Australian  pastoralist  has  learned,  from  bitter 
experience,  a  great  deal  about  fighting  the 
drought  that  was  not  previously  known.  Ex- 
periments made  with  native  shrubs  and  trees  have 
proved  that  many  of  these  are  of  considerable 
value  as  fodder  plants  when  all  else  fails.  Among 
the  plants  so  used  was  the  despised  prickly  pear, 
the  fleshy  leaves  being  boiled  and  used  as  fodder, 
and  serving  to  keep  much  valuable  stock  from 
absolute  starvation.  In  the  same  way,  the  hungry 
stock  learned  to  devour  the  bulbous  trunks  of  the 
Australian  bottle-tree  and  the  leaves  and  twigs 
of  a  forest  tree  known  as  the  kurragong. 

These,  however,  were  the  expedients  resorted 
to  in  desperation.  The  more  valuable  lesson 
gained  from  the  drought  was  the  necessity  for 
caring  for  and  propagating  the  priceless  drought- 
resisting  shrubs,  such  as  the  saltbush,  which  are 
natural  to  the  saline  lowlands  of  the  interior. 
Transplanted  to  California,  the  value  of  the  salt- 
bush  was  at  once  recognised  there,  and  measures 
for  its  scientific  propagation  were  taken  with  the 
most  successful  results.     From  this  example,  and 


88  Australian  Life 

from  the  lessons  of  the  lean  years,  the  Australian 
pastoralist  has  so  far  profited  that  considerable 
attention  is  being  devoted  to  the  spread  of  this 
plant  and  others  of  a  kindred  nature. 

Provision  for  the  storage  of  the  water  that  falls 
during  the  rainy  season  has  always  been  of  a 
primitive  nature,  for  the  great  evaporation  which 
takes  place  under  the  summer  sun  discouraged 
any  elaborate  precautions  of  this  kind.  Never- 
theless, the  importance  of  conserving,  as  far  as 
possible,  the  plentiful  supplies  that  invariably  run 
to  waste  in  the  rainy  season  is  now  more  fully 
recognised  than  it  has  ever  been.  Plans  for  lock- 
ing the  more  important  of  the  rivers  and  creeks 
have  been  from  time  to  time  proposed,  and  prac- 
tical steps  are  now  being  taken  to  carry  into  effect 
the  more  feasible  of  these  schemes.  The  con- 
servation of  large  supplies  of  water  during  good 
seasons  would  appear  the  most  obvious  precaution 
against  the  dry  years  that  must  inevitably  follow, 
as  experience  has  shown;  but,  in  the  past,  a  good 
season  has  been  a  sort  of  fool's  paradise,  during 
which  the  pastoralists  have  idly  watched  the  valu- 
able water  running  away  to  waste. 

The  improvidence  of  Australians  in  this  respect 
is  made  strongly  apparent  by  such  a  curious  spec- 
tacle as  was  witnessed  in  a  little  town  in  the 
western  district  of  New  South  Wales  when  the 
great  drought  broke  up  in  1903.  For  many 
months,  the  inhabitants  had  been  supplied  with 
water  carted  from  a  distance,   although  a  dry 


In  Time  of  Drought  89 

stream-bed  choked  with  dust,  and  a  wooden 
bridge  spanning  it,  bore  witness  that  under 
normal  conditions  the  settlement  could  boast  of  a 
river.  The  breaking  of  the  drought  was  heralded 
by  news  of  heavy  rains  nearer  the  coast,  and  by 
the  rumour  that  a  head  of  water  was  actually 
rushing  down  the  upper  reaches  of  the  river. 
This  rumour  was  confirmed  by  an  excited  horse- 
man, who  rode  into  the  town  one  breathless 
evening,  yelling  that  "she  was  coming  down." 
Everybody  turned  out  to  witness  the  sight,  lining 
the  banks  of  the  dry  stream-bed  and  gazing  up 
the  empty  channel  with  anxious  eyes.  The  com- 
ing of  the  water  could  be  heard  before  it  was 
actually  in  sight,  a  hoarse  whispering  as  the  ad- 
vancing flood  licked  around  the  sun-baked  stones, 
and  stirred  among  the  dead  twigs  and  grasses. 
Then  an  inky  pool  appeared  in  the  stream-bed, 
now  stationary  and  now  moving  quickly  forward. 
It  broadened  as  it  trickled  through  the  little 
town.  Behind  it  came  a  rush  of  yellow  waters, 
laden  with  debris  of  all  kinds,  filling  up  the  hol- 
lows and  washing  away  the  year's  accumulation 
of  dust  or  grit.  Two  hours  later,  the  dry  creek- 
bed  was  a  roaring  torrent,  and  the  excited  man 
borrc'ved  a  fresh  horse  to  convey  the  glad  news 
to  townships  further  down  the  creek. 

Most  of  that  water  ran  uselessly  away  from  the 
places  where  it  was  wanted,  just  as  it  had  for  ages 
past  in  parched,  unthrifty  Australia.  It  would  be 
strange  indeed  if  the  waste  of  it  did  not  appeal  to 


90  Australian  Life 

the  drought-stricken  bushmen,  and  if  the  neces- 
sity for  storage  works  were  not  recognised  as  a 
matter  of  national  importance.  Unfortunately 
the  capital  required  for  the  construction  of  the 
necessary  storage  areas  is  not  at  present  forth- 
coming, and  the  work  of  irrigating  Australia  is 
progressing  but  slowly.  It  is  obvious,  however, 
that  the  conservation  of  water,  even  if  carried  out 
on  the  most  extensive  scale,  will  not  cause  the 
grass  to  grow  in  years  when  there  is  no  rainfall. 
The  loss  of  stock  is  caused  by  want  of  food,  and 
no  scheme  of  water  conservation  would  be  ade- 
quate for  the  irrigation  of  the  vast  grazing  areas 
of  Australia.  Water  conservation  can  only  be 
part  of  a  system  which  will  include  the  growth  of 
large  crops  of  green  fodder  by  means  of  irrigation, 
and  the  preservation  of  this  fodder  in  silo  pits. 
The  many  experiments  made  in  this  direction 
have  generally  proved  successful,  the  favourite 
fodder  plants  being  maize,  lucerne,  and  varieties 
of  sorghum.  lyike  most  arid  countries,  Australia 
possesses  a  soil  capable  of  producing  remarkable 
crops  when  irrigated,  and  the  growth  of  luxuriant 
fodder  plants  is  only  a  question  of  the  proper 
application  of  water.  It  may  confidently  be  pre- 
dicted that  the  next  development  of  pastoral  enter- 
prise will  be  the  storage  of  water,  and  of  large 
supplies  of  fodder,  in  both  a  green  and  dry  state. 
The  most  satisfactory  advance  in  the  direction 
of  providing  water  has  been  made  by  the  utilisa- 
tion of  the  stores  of  artesian  water,  which  have 


In  Time  of  Drought  91 

been  proved  to  exist  under  an  immense  area  of 
Central  Australia.  This  underground  water  sup- 
ply is  tapped  by  means  of  boring,  and  in  some  in- 
stances the  soil  has  been  penetrated  to  a  depth  as 
great  as  five  thousand  feet  in  order  to  reach  the 
subterranean  water.  Very  frequently  the  water, 
when  tapped,  spouts  strongly  out,  although  in 
some  places  it  only  rises  to  a  certain  height  in  the 
bore,  and  must  be  raised  to  the  surface  by  means 
of  pumps.  The  boring  operations  are  conducted 
both  by  private  individuals  and  by  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Australian  States,  some  of  which 
maintain  a  staff  of  specially  trained  ofl&cials  for 
this  work. 

The  importance  of  this  subterranean  water  sup- 
ply can  best  be  illustrated  by  the  example  of  one 
bore,  sunk  in  a  dry  and  waterless  tract  of  country, 
which  has  now  for  years  yielded  a  flow  of  water 
averaging  six  million  gallons  each  day.  At  Dag- 
worth,  in  Queensland,  there  is  an  artesian  well 
from  which  water  flows  at  a  temperature  of  196° 
Fahrenheit,  and  many  of  the  Queensland  artesian 
wells  discharge  water  of  a  temperature  exceeding 
100°  Fahrenheit.  This  artesian  water  has  been 
proved  as  valuable  for  irrigation  purposes  as  any 
surface  supply,  and  when  it  has  sufficiently  cooled, 
the  stock  drink  it  just  as  readily.  Boring  for 
water  is  still  being  prosecuted  with  energy  in  all 
the  states  except  Tasmania  and  Victoria,  and 
from  the  results  already  obtained  the  pastoral 
districts  have  reaped  incalculable  benefit. 


92  Australian  Life 

Perhaps  the  most  bitter  reflection  of  the  drought- 
stricken  station  owner  arose  from  the  knowledge 
that,  while  his  stock  was  starving,  there  were 
large  areas  further  east  where  a  plentiful  supply 
of  grass  was  actually  wasting.  No  means  existed 
for  transporting  his  stock  to  this  supply  of  food, 
for  they  could  not  travel  through  the  barren 
country  that  lay  between.  In  the  opinion  of  the 
president  of  the  Queensland  Pastoralists'  Union, 
the  most  practical  suggestion  for  fighting  drought 
in  the  future  is  one  for  the  construction  of  light 
railway  lines  into  the  western  and  northern  pas- 
toral districts,  thus  enabling  stock  to  be  removed 
from  the  drought-stricken  areas. 

The  recovery  of  the  Australian  back  country 
from  a  long  succession  of  dry  seasons,  such  as 
those  which  culminated  in  the  disastrous  year  of 
1902,  is  necessarily  slow.  The  rains  that  break 
the  drought  cause  the  grass  to  spring  up  bravely, 
it  is  true,  but  it  is  a  delicate  growth  and  does  not 
withstand  the  hot  sun  for  long.  The  fodder- 
plants,  eaten  down  to  the  very  roots  in  the  lean 
years,  have  not  had  time  to  recover  themselves, 
and  would  probably  never  do  so  were  it  not  for 
the  diminution  of  the  stock  upon  the  land.  The 
havoc  of  the  drought  is  not  so  easily  repaired.  A 
Bulletin  writer,  in  a  few  vivid  words,  describes  the 
bush  in  its  first  stage  of  recovery: 

"A  ner/  world,  seemingly — a  world  of  green, 
good  to  look  upon,  though  it  was  of  forced,  un- 
stable growth,  with  no  vitality.     The  poor  bush 


In  Time  of  Drought  93 

tries  to  hide  its  nakedness  in  this  short-lived  life, 
but  the  skeleton — bare,  gaunt,  blackened  with 
fire,  tortured  by  thirst — cannot  be  so  quickly  hid- 
den. It  is  hideously  apparent,  and  pitiful  to  see. 
Down  in  the  gullies,  on  the  plains,  which  a  few 
months  ago  danced  with  white  molten  heat,  now 
tinted  soft  with  the  crude  tints  of  verdure,  lie  the 
white  gleaming  bones,  sorrowful  amongst  the 
newly  sprung  grass.  The  depleted  flocks  drift 
and  browse  around  them — menacing  landmarks 
of  the  summer  to  come.  ...  It  will  be  a  bare, 
bleak  world  for  this  year's  lambs.  The  poor 
weakly  mothers  will  be  little  protection  against 
the  cold  of  early  spring  and  the  devilment  of  the 
crows,  who,  preening  themselves  high  in  the 
oaks,  or  flapping  lazily  over  the  paddocks,  are 
bitter  forecasts  of  the  heat-time  to  come." 

The  unstable  nature  of  the  foundation  upon 
which  the  pastoral  industry  has  been  reared  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  of  the  last  twenty-five 
years  of  the  nineteenth  century  only  nine  brought 
good  seasons.  In  some  of  the  worst  years,  the 
agricultural  districts  also  suflfered,  and  so  severely 
was  the  drought  of  1901  and  1902  felt  in  the 
wheat-growing  Mallee  district  of  Victoria,  that 
many  farmers  actually  left  their  holdings,  some 
of  them  turning  their  backs  on  Australia  in  de- 
spair. In  the  Australian  cities,  which  are  largely 
dependent  upon  the  prosperity  of  the  back  coun- 
try, the  pinch  of  drought  causes  an  unwelcome 
tightness  of  money,  as  well  as  an  increase  in  the 


94 


Australian  Life 


price  of  commodities;  while  the  large  floating 
population  of  bushraen  experience  scarcity  of 
work  consequent  upon  the  diminution  of  the 
flocks.  It  is  no  matter  for  surprise,  then,  that 
the  Australian  inventor  sets  himself  seriously  to 
the  task  of  rain-making;  or  that  an  Australian 
public  man  declared  that  "a  week's  steady  rain 
was  worth  more  to  Australia  than  all  the  gold 
mines  of  the  West." 


CHAPTER  VIII 


URBAN   AUSTRAI^IA 


THE  size  and  importance  of  the  Australian 
cities,  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  the  total 
population  of  the  continent,  are  a  source  of  sur- 
prise to  every  visitor.  The  population  of  Sydney 
and  Melbourne  may  be  set  down,  in  round  num- 
bers, as  half  a  million  each,  thus  accounting  for 
one  million  of  the  two  and  a  half  million  inhabi- 
tants of  the  two  most  populous  states.  A  better 
idea  of  the  wealth  and  trade  of  these  cities  may 
be  gained  by  comparing  them  with  other  cities  of 
the  Empire.  In  the  value  of  ratable  property, 
Sydney  is  second  only  to  London  among  Empire 
cities,  while  as  a  seaport,  Sydney  takes  fourth 
place  among  the  ports  of  the  Empire  for  the  actual 
value  of  trade.  Melbourne  is  in  everything  the 
rival  of  Sydney,  and  ranks  little  below  that  city 
in  wealth  and  volume  of  trade. 

In  the  other  Australian  States,  the  same  char- 
acteristic is  noticeable.  Each  can  boast  of  a 
capital  city  where  a  large  proportion  of  the  state 
inhabitants  dwell,  and  this  proportion  shows  a 
tendency  to  increase  rather  than  diminish.     The 

95 


96  Australian  Life 

causes  which  have  contributed  to  the  growth  of 
these  cities,  so  huge  when  compared  to  the  popu- 
lation of  the  country  behind  them,  He  in  a  variety 
of  circumstances,  the  most  important  being  the 
great  trading  activity  of  the  Australian  people. 
Each  capital  is  the  sole  trade  outlet  of  a  vast  and 
productive  state,  and  also  the  channel  through 
which  the  imports  for  the  use  of  a  prosperous  and 
free-spending  people  must  flow.  Every  railway 
constructed  leads  directly  to  the  capital,  and  the 
capitals  monopolise  the  trade  which  flows  from 
one  Australian  state  to  another.  They  provide 
facilities  that  exist  nowhere  else  in  the  state,  and 
have  therefore  attracted  to  themselves  the  bulk 
of  the  manufactures  fostered  by  the  protective 
tariSs  adopted  by  most  of  the  Australian  States. 
I,ike  a  snowball,  they  have  grown  by  growing. 

The  business  and  the  home  life  of  the  people 
who  live  in  these  cities  can  better  be  described 
when  some  of  the  leading  characteristics  which 
distinguish  them  have  been  outlined.  They  were 
all  designed  to  be  big  cities,  with  broad  straight 
streets  and  spacious  public  parks.  All  the  incon- 
veniences of  older  cities  have  been  avoided;  room 
for  expansion  on  all  sides  has  been  provided; 
everything  has  been  planned  on  the  grand  scale. 
Melbourne  is  a  typical  Australian  city.  The  city 
proper  is  a  mile  square,  every  corner  is  an  exact 
right  angle,  and  every  street  is  exactly  one  mile 
in  length.  From  the  great  central  railway  station, 
any  part  of  the  city  can  be  reached  in  a  few 


Urban  Australia  97 

minutes  by  walking,  and  to  that  station  every 
suburb  sends  frequent  trains.  The  double  line 
of  tramways  running  along  the  centre  of  each 
street  leaves  a  way  for  the  traffic  on  either 
side  as  wide  as  streets  were  made  in  olden 
cities.  In  his  square  mile  of  city,  the  Melbourne 
man  finds  everything  —  Houses  of  Parliament, 
town  hall,  post-office,  museum,  theatres,  banks, 
churches,  newspaper  offices.  Stock  Exchange,  res- 
taurants, libraries,  and  shops.  Beyond  the  city 
area,  the  suburbs  stretch  for  eight  miles  in  every 
direction,  but  the  business  of  the  city,  and  prac- 
tically of  the  whole  state,  is  transacted  in  that 
square  mile  of  city.  The  public  buildings  are  on 
an  ambitious  scale.  Most  of  them  were  planned 
at  a  time  when  Melbourne  possessed  a  sanguine 
statistician,  who  published  a  calculation  showing 
that  the  population  of  Australia  would  be  thirty- 
three  millions  in  1951,  and  one  hundred  and 
eighty-nine  millions  in  2001 .  He  based  his  figures 
on  the  rate  at  which  the  population  was  then  in- 
creasing, but  unfortunately  that  rate  has  not  been 
maintained.  Nevertheless,  the  public  buildings 
are  there  in  anticipation  of  the  time  when  the 
population  of  Melbourne  shall  be  as  great  as  that 
of  lyondon  at  the  present  day.  The  front  of  the 
Parliament  House  is  already  complete,  and  when 
the  dome  has  been  added,  the  building  will  be  a 
noble  one.  The  governor's  residence  is  a  gigantic 
palace,  and  of  the  public  offices,  some  one  has  un- 
kindly written  that  they  look  as  if  they  had  been 


98  Australian  Life 

built  by  the  mile.  During  a  land  boom,  the  price 
of  the  city  land  was  put  up  to  such  an  extravagant 
price  that  several  speculators  availed  themselves 
of  the  presence  of  an  American  architect  to  erect 
"sky-scrapers"  of  twelve  and  fourteen  stories. 
The  liberal  scale  upon  which  banks,  insurance 
offices,  and  other  buildings  have  been  erected 
prevents  the  tall  buildings  from  looking  hope- 
lessly out  of  place;  indeed,  the  city  escapes  the 
criticism  of  being  overbuilt,  because  everything  is 
in  proportion.  The  surpassing  activity  of  the 
people  in  this  compact  city  area  is  part  of  the 
city  itself.  Wide  as  the  streets  are,  they  hardly 
suffice  for  the  traffic  of  the  vehicles  that  crowd 
them.  The  footpaths  are  also  liberal  of  dimen- 
sion, but  they  are  always  thronged  in  business 
hours.  Every  lamp-post  bears  a  notice  request- 
ing that  "  pedestrians  keep  to  the  right,"  and 
owing  to  the  general  compliance  with  this  re- 
quest, there  is  no  confusion  between  the  two 
streams  of  foot-passengers  that  pour  so  rapidly 
through  the  city.  The  first  and  most  lasting  im- 
pression of  Melbourne  is  a  roar  of  traffic,  a  con- 
tinual clanging  of  tram-bells,  and  an  eager  crowd, 
always  hurrying. 

It  would  be  easy  to  write  at  length  of  the  dis- 
tinctive features  of  each  Australian  city,  but  it  is 
my  object  rather  to  point  out  that  they  all  possess 
the  general  characteristics  I  have  indicated. 
They  have  a  compact  business  area,  the  most 
modern  and  convenient  means  of  travelling,  and 


Urban  Australia  99 

every  facility  for  the  rapid  transaction  of  business. 
The  influx  of  business  men  from  the  suburbs  be- 
gins shortly  before  nine  o'clock.  From  the  big 
railway  station  issues  an  endless  stream  of  human 
beings,  as  train  after  train  arrives  from  the  sub- 
urbs. Every  train  is  crowded,  and  the  ferry- 
boats ply  busily  across  the  water.  The  footpaths 
show  that  the  stream  is  setting  in  one  direction 
only,  towards  the  heart  of  the  city.  The  stream 
continues  to  flow  until  half-past  nine,  and  then 
stops.  Principals  and  employees  are  all  in  their 
places  by  that  hour,  and  business  is  in  full  swing. 
Many  of  the  Australian  business  customs  are 
practical  and  convenient.  Some  warehouses  close 
their  doors  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  when  it  is  an  understood  thing 
that  members  of  the  staff"  take  their  luncheon. 
During  the  rest  of  the  day,  every  employee  must 
be  in  his  place  for  the  transaction  of  his  business. 
The  long  luncheon  hour  and  the  subsequent  drag- 
ging on  of  business  are  not  possible;  there  is  not 
enough  time.  The  banks  shut  their  doors  at 
three  o'clock,  and  most  ofl&ces  at  five.  At  six 
o'clock  the  shops  put  up  their  shutters,  and  every 
one  is  at  home,  or  on  the  way  home. 

It  is  a  short  day,  but  it  is  a  busy  one.  When 
they  say  in  Australia  that  a  man  can  "run  like  a 
Melbourne  shipping  clerk,"  they  intend  to  pay 
tribute  to  his  speed.  The  Sydney  man  moves  in 
a  more  dignified  manner,  and  the  people  of 
Brisbane  are  so  leisurely,  by  contrast,  that  the 


loo  Australian  Life 

southern  states  have  christened  Queensland  * '  the 
land  of  lots  o'  time."  The  Brisbane  man  is  usu- 
ally sitting  still  or  riding  on  a  train.  He  wastes 
no  effort,  but  the  net  result  of  his  day's  work  is 
usually  a  satisfactory  one.  The  principle  under- 
lying business  in  Australia  is  decision.  The  man 
who  says  "I  '11  think  it  over  and  write  to  you" 
is  a  comparative  rarity.  The  average  Australian 
business  man,  if  he  thinks  he  sees  a  chance,  is 
willing  to  take  a  risk,  for  he  knows  very  well  that 
the  ofifer  is  not  likely  to  be  repeated.  He  has 
another  characteristic.  He  can  lock  up  his  ofiSce 
at  five  o'clock  and  leave  his  business  behind  him 
in  the  office.  When  he  leaves  the  city  for  his  resi- 
dential suburb,  the  thread  of  business  is  broken, 
and  will  not  be  taken  up  again  until  he  steps  out 
of  the  train  next  morning.  In  the  meantime,  he 
lounges,  both  mentally  and  physically. 

There  is  nothing  arbitrary  in  the  selection  of 
residential  districts  near  the  big  Australian  cities; 
the  best  situations  are  occupied  by  the  best  class 
of  suburbs.  The  squatter  whom  we  have  seen  in 
his  Riverina  station  also  occupies  a  mansion  at 
Pott's  Point,  near  Sydney;  at  Toorak,  a  Mel- 
bourne suburb;  or  in  some  corresponding  out- 
skirt  of  one  of  the  Australian  capitals.  The  most 
striking  feature  of  the  big  grey  house  is  its  wide 
colonnaded  balcony,  and  the  extent  of  the  grounds 
that  surround  it.  There  is  nothing  distinctive 
about  the  interior;  ball-room,  billiard-room,  li- 
brary, reception-rooms,  all  are  arranged  after  the 


Urban  Australia  loi 

conventional  fashion.  The  grounds  are  remark- 
able for  their  thick  lawns  of  stiff  buffalo  grass, 
springy  underfoot,  but  harsh  and  coarse  to  the 
touch.  The  luxuriance  of  foliage  and  flower  is 
surprising.  The  long  carriage-drive  is  bordered 
by  great  clumps  of  arum  lilies  and  purple  iris, 
with  groves  of  glossy  camellias  and  ornamental 
shrubs  and  trees  drawn  from  every  part  of  the 
world.  Glass-houses,  conservatory,  and  stables 
are  arranged  on  a  scale  of  luxury  and  convenience. 
From  the  balcony  is  obtained  a  magnificent  view 
of  the  harbour  and  of  the  compact  city  area, 
bristling  with  spires  and  domes  and  many-storied 
buildings.  It  is  a  pleasant  country  house,  in  the 
heart  of  a  big  city. 

The  squatter's  presence  in  town  is  due  to  the 
session  of  the  State  L,egislature,  for  he  is  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Upper  House,  or  Legislative  Council. 
The  chief  function  of  this  Council  is  to  check  the 
Socialistic  tendency  of  the  Lower  House,  the 
members  of  which  are  elected  on  a  basis  of  man- 
hood suffrage.  A  class  vote  or  a  nomination 
secured  him  his  seat  in  the  Upper  House,  where 
he  sits  with  men  the  majority  of  whom,  like 
himself,  are  wealthy  and  have  pastoral  interests. 
His  legislative  duties  are  not  exacting,  and  he 
has  time  to  transact  business  with  his  city  agents, 
to  renew  at  the  club  his  associations  with  his  in- 
timates, to  see  his  horse  run  in  the  Cup,  and  to 
pick  up  at  the  stud  sales  a  ram  of  some  celebrated 
strain  which  costs  him  a  thousand  guineas. 


I02  Australian  Life 

Suppose  we  accompany  him  to  the  city,  where 
he  has  a  busy  day  before  him.  He  catches  the 
train  not  a  hundred  yards  from  his  house,  and  it 
is  interesting  to  notice  that  as  it  approaches  the 
cit}^,  the  car  passes  through  several  zones  of  sub- 
urbs, each  of  a  different  class.  Next  to  his  own 
suburb  is  one  of  detached  villas,  each  with  its  own 
garden;  then  comes  a  region  of  wooden  cottages, 
all  neat  and  comfortable;  and  finally,  stucco  ter- 
races, rather  dingy  and  crowded,  and  many  of 
them  with  cards  in  the  window,  proclaiming  that 
"  board  and  residence"  may  be  obtained  within. 
Suddenly  a  corner  is  turned  and  the  city  area  is 
reached.  Alighting  at  a  corner  where  two  police- 
men are  regulating  the  throng  of  traffic  in  a  man- 
ner that  recalls  their  London  doubles,  he  walks 
rapidly  down  two  blocks  and  turns  into  his  club. 
Half  a  dozen  letters  have  to  be  answered,  includ- 
ing one  from  his  station  manager;  then  he  must 
see  his  solicitor,  and  afterwards  the  principal  of  a 
wool-broking  firm.  It  is  now  lunch-time,  and  he 
invariably  lunches,  when  he  is  in  town,  at  the 
same  hotel.  The  room  is  a  public  one,  and  we 
will  take  our  seats  at  one  of  the  tables,  for  there 
are  some  interesting  people  here. 

The  grey-bearded  man  with  whom  our  squatter 
has  just  shaken  hands  is  editor  and  proprietor  of 
a  big  daily  paper.  He  plays  no  open  part  in 
politics,  but  is  credited  with  having  made  and  un- 
made each  of  the  many  Governments  that  have 
ruled  the  State  during  the  last  twenty  years. 


Urban  Australia  103 

Next  to  him  sits  a  member  of  the  Federal  Parlia- 
ment, who  is  still  a  young  man.  He  is  a  partner 
in  a  big  city  firm,  has  interests  in  everj^  state  of 
Australia,  was  knighted  not  many  years  ago,  and 
fought  bitterly  and  successfully  for  the  employers 
in  the  greatest  strike  Australia  has  ever  known. 
Our  friend  next  greets  a  brother  squatter  who  is 
a  Federal  Senator  and  a  prominent  Orangeman. 
He  has  a  political  grievance  against  the  Australian 
Premier,  because  of  a  friendly  visit  paid  by  that 
gentleman  to  the  Pope  on  his  way  back  to  Aus- 
tralia from  a  visit  to  lyondon.  Nevertheless,  he 
is  chatting  amicably  to  an  Irish  barrister,  whom 
the  same  Pope  has  made  a  knight  of  St.  Gregory, 
on  account  of  services  rendered  to  the  Church  in 
Australia.  A  university  professor  and  the  part 
owner  of  one  of  the  richest  mines  in  Australia 
complete  this  party  of  city  magnates,  the  members 
of  which  represent  almost  every  shade  of  Aus- 
tralian opinion.  It  is  obvious  enough  that  they 
do  not  carry  public  differences  into  private  life. 
The  lunch  is  soon  over,  for  they  are  all  busy 
men,  and  our  squatter  makes  his  way  by  tram  to 
the  building  where  the  State  Parliament  meets. 
Under  ordinary  circumstances,  the  House  will 
adjourn  early  enough  to  permit  him  to  attend  to 
his  social  obligations  afterwards. 

The  solicitor  whom  our  squatter  consulted  may 
well  be  taken  as  a  type  of  the  professional  class. 
He  is  a  rising  young  man,  has  married  a  rela- 
tive of  his  wealthy  client,  and  because  he  has  a 


I04  Australian  Life 

taste  for  yachting, — an  expensive  hobby,  it  may 
be  said, — has  chosen  to  Hve  in  one  of  the  outlying 
suburbs  by  the  seashore.  His  villa  faces  the  bay; 
it  is  his  own,  but  a  similar  one  could  be  rented 
for  ;i{^8o,  or  ;^90,  a  year,  inclusive  of  all  rates  and 
taxes.  To  that  sum  must  be  added  the  cost  of 
the  season  ticket  for  railway  or  boat,  but  for  an 
outlay  of  ^loo  a  year  a  charming  home  can  be 
obtained.  The  house  is  of  the  bungalow  type, 
cool,  roomy,  and  convenient,  and  the  garden  is  a 
miracle  of  brightness.  The  attraction  of  the  sub- 
urb is  the  beach.  A  little  jetty  makes  a  break- 
water for  the  fleet  of  tiny  centre-board  yachts 
anchored  in  its  lee,  and  near  it  is  a  bathing  place, 
enclosed  by  a  wooden  palisade  to  keep  the  sharks 
at  bay.  The  residents  can  be  in  the  city  half  an 
hour  after  the  train  leaves  their  railway  station, 
and  once  home  again,  they  are  in  a  different  at- 
mosphere, getting  the  first  breath  of  the  cool 
evening  breeze  at  the  close  of  the  burning  summer 
days. 

Our  solicitor's  professional  work  does  not  take 
him  into  the  courts,  and  has  nothing  to  distin- 
guish it  from  the  practice  of  a  similar  business 
elsewhere.  At  half-past  nine,  he  is  at  his  oflSce, 
and  at  one,  he  lunches  with  a  few  friends  at  an 
establishment  that  is  deserving  of  some  descrip- 
tion. The  proprietors  are  two  young  ladies,  well 
known  in  society,  and  although  they  spend  their 
days  in  a  tearoom,  they  retain  their  circle  of 
friends,  among  whom  are  many  of  their  customers. 


SLUICING  FOR  GOLD  AT  FRESHWATER. 


Urban  Australia  105 

Their  adoption  of  this  business  was  made  neces- 
sary by  the  financial  crisis  which  occurred  in  Aus- 
tralia in  1893,  when  many  families  were  reduced 
from  wealth  to  the  poorest  circumstances  in  the 
course  of  one  disastrous  week.  The  young  ladies 
who  attend  upon  the  customers  are  educated  and 
refined,  and  daintiness  is  a  feature  of  the  furniture 
and  the  fare.  Prices  are  strictly  reasonable,  and 
everything  supplied  is  the  very  best  of  its  kind. 
Our  solicitor  may  not  improbably  meet  the  young 
lady  who  brought  him  his  cup  of  coffee,  at  the 
house  of  some  friend,  and  such  a  meeting  would 
certainly  occasion  no  awkwardness  on  either  side. 
About  half-past  four,  he  will  catch  a  train  home, 
in  time  for  a  sail  in  his  little  yacht  before  dinner. 
One  or  two  evenings  each  week  will  probably  be 
spent  at  the  one  club  of  the  suburb,  where  there 
are  tennis-lawns  and  bowling-greens,  with  a 
skittle-alley  and  the  usual  billiard  and  card- 
rooms.  The  members  of  the  club  all  appear 
in  easy  flannels,  and  may  be  stockbrokers,  civil 
servants  of  the  higher  grades,  and  young  pro- 
fessional men  like  himself.  The  local  politics  of 
the  place  he  leaves  to  the  local  tradespeople,  and 
complains  a  good  deal  of  the  result  of  his  own 
neglect.  At  the  same  time,  municipal  affairs  will 
never  assume  any  great  importance  in  Australian 
cities,  owing  to  the  fact  that  many  municipal 
functions  are  already  undertaken  by  the  state 
governments. 

When  he  takes  a  holiday,  he  may  choose  among 


io6  Australian  Life 

a  number  of  desirable  resorts.  Perhaps  the  ideal 
holiday  for  an  Australian  is  a  visit  to  New  Zea- 
land, with  a  sea  voyage  of  twelve  hundred  miles, 
and  a  change  to  a  country  unlike  his  own  in  every 
particular.  Or  he  may  journey  inland  and  spend 
his  vacation  in  the  bush,  which  offers  a  round  of 
riding,  driving,  and  shooting.  Dotted  around  the 
Australian  coast  are  watering-places  which  com- 
bine the  attractions  of  the  seaside  with  those  of 
the  country,  so  that  the  holiday-maker  may  picnic 
in  the  fastnesses  of  the  fern-tree  gullies  on  one 
day,  and  spend  the  next  in  fishing  on  the  schnap- 
per-grounds  of  the  open  ocean. 

It  will  be  apparent  from  even  this  slight  outline 
that  the  life  of  the  mone5'ed  and  professional 
classes  in  an  Australian  capital  city  differs  but 
slightly  from  that  of  the  same  classes  in  Great 
Britain.  They  have  adopted  a  shorter  and  more 
strenuous  business  day,  and  have  utilised  the  ex- 
perience of  the  Old  World  in  obviating  many  of 
the  inconveniences  unavoidable  in  the  life  of  cities 
which  have  grown  by  gradual  stages  through  a 
course  of  centuries.  Convenience  of  travelling 
facilities  has  permitted  the  growth  of  the  suburbs 
outwards,  and  so  given  an  air  of  spaciousness  to 
even  the  most  commonplace  of  the  residential 
quarters.  The  provisions  made  for  parks  and 
open  spaces  are  liberal,  and  the  Australian  citizen 
takes  an  interest  and  a  pride  in  the  many  public 
gardens  and  playing-grounds  with  which  his  city 
has  been  furnished.     For  these  reasons,  and  be- 


Urban  Australia  107 

cause  ot  their  propinquity  to  the  sea-coast,  all 
these  big  Australian  cities  are  healthy,  and  can 
boast  a  low  death  rate.  That  they  continue  to 
increase  in  proportion  to  the  population  of  the 
country  behind  them  is  not  due  to  these  causes  so 
much  as  to  the  fact  that  the)^  offer  to  the  working 
class  such  advantages  as  no  other  cities  in  the 
world  can  offer.  The  attraction  that  city  life  has 
for  the  humbler  classes  is  evident  even  in  the 
Old  World,  where  the  contrast  between  the  con- 
ditions of  town  and  country  life  is  not  so  marked 
as  in  Australia.  Here  the  reasons  for  flocking 
to  the  cities  are  obvious  enough.  To  quote  the 
Bulletin,  the  most  powerful  organ  representing 
the  opinion  of  the  Australian  working-man:  "A 
trade,  and  regular  work  at  that,  made  at  union 
wages,  is  worth  more  than  the  average  six  hun- 
dred and  forty  acres  of  land  available  for  selection 
in  any  Australian  state.  It  is  hard  reasoning  on 
a  cash  basis,  not  silly  hankering  after  city  life, 
that  brings  the  young  bushman  to  town." 


CHAPTER  IX 


WFE   IN  THE   CITIES 


AUSTRAIylA  has  so  often  been  described  as 
the  paradise  of  the  working-man  that  the 
phrase  seems  to  have  lost  part  of  its  meaning  from 
constant  repetition.  The  factors  conducing  to 
the  satisfactory  condition  in  which  the  Australian 
artisan  finds  himself  are  primarily  those  he  has 
established  for  himself,  namely  short  hours  of 
labour  and  high  wages.  But  these  conditions 
apply  elsewhere,  and  notably  in  the  large  Ameri- 
can cities,  where  the  working-man  is,  neverthe- 
less, far  from  being  as  well  off  as  in  Australia. 
In  the  first  place,  the  housing  difficulty  does  not 
exist  for  the  Australian  workman.  There  is  not 
one  tenement  building  in  all  Australia,  for  every 
family  can  obtain  a  comfortable  cottage  at  a  mod- 
erate rental,  A  well-built  house  with  five  rooms 
and  a  bathroom,  within  comfortable  walking 
distance  of  his  work,  can  be  got  for  about  ten 
shillings  a  week,  a  sum  which  does  not  bear  so 
high  a  proportion  to  his  weekly  earnings  as  the 
seven  and  sixpence  which  the  British  workman 
has  to  pay  for  two  or  three  rooms  in  a  gloomy 
io8 


Life  in  the  Cities  109 

tenement.  A  garden  in  front  of  the  cottage,  and 
a  plot  of  ground  of  respectable  dimensions  behind 
it,  belong  as  a  matter  of  course  to  the  Australian 
workman's  dwelling.  It  has  been  said  that  the 
workman  is  able,  if  he  wishes,  to  live  within 
comfortable  walking  distance  of  his  work.  The 
tendency  of  the  Australian  middle  class  is  still  to 
occup3^  the  more  distant  suburbs,  so  that  the  sub- 
urbs of  an  Australian  city  nearest  to  the  actual 
city  area  will  usually  be  found  in  the  occupation 
of  the  humbler  classes. 

But  should  the  workman  choose  to  rent  a  cot- 
tage a  few  miles  out  of  the  city,  he  is  admirably 
served  by  tram  and  train,  or  by  a  cheap  and  rapid 
ferry-boat  service.  The  convenience  and  cheap- 
ness of  the  State-owned  suburban  railway  lines 
can  only  be  appreciated  by  those  who  have  ac- 
quired a  wide  experience  of  profit-earning  rail- 
ways in  other  lands.  The  Australian  suburban 
lines,  as  the  property  of  the  people,  are  adminis- 
tered in  the  interests  of  the  traveller  rather  than 
with  the  object  of  earning  the  highest  possible 
profit.  The  trains  are  run  frequently  and  punc- 
tually, and  a  special  scale  of  fares  within  certain 
hours  enables  the  workman  to  travel  at  an  ex- 
pense that  is  almost  nominal.  Thus  the  ten 
shillings  a  week  he  pays  for  a  cottage  near  town 
will  pay  the  rent  of  an  even  more  comfortable 
dwelling  six  or  seven  miles  away,  as  well  as  the 
additional  cost  of  his  railway  fares.  There  he 
will  have  a  plot  of  land,  perhaps  half  an  acre  in 


no  Australian  Life 

extent,  where  he  can  gratify  his  tastes  for  garden- 
ing and  poultry-keeping  to  the  fullest  extent. 

The  cheapness  of  food  is  another  circumstance 
in  favour  of  the  Australian  workman.  He  can 
dine,  if  he  wishes,  at  a  cleanly  kept  restaurant 
where  a  substantial  meal  of  meat  and  vegetables, 
with  pudding  to  follow,  can  be  had  for  sixpence. 
A  better  served  meal,  with  a  small  bottle  of  Aus- 
tralian wine  added,  can  easily  be  got  for  a  shilling, 
and  this  includes  all  those  extras  of  bread  and  at- 
tendance for  which  a  special  charge  is  made  in  so 
many  places.  These  prices  argue  cheap  meat, 
cheap  vegetables,  and  cheap  fruit,  so  that  the 
frugal  housewife  can  make  a  little  money  go  a 
long  way  when  marketing.  Fruit,  in  season 
especially,  is  cheap.  Fresh  grapes,  peaches, 
apricots,  pears,  and  plums  can  all  be  bought  at 
prices  ranging  from  twopence  to  threepence  a 
pound,  and  all  of  the  very  finest  quality.  I  have 
often  seen  twenty  pounds  of  ripe  tomatoes  offered 
at  the  door  for  a  shilling,  and  a  ripe  water-melon 
a  foot  in  diameter,  with  flesh  pink  and  crisp  and 
luscious,  for  threepence.  Sixpence  buys  three 
good  pineapples  from  the  hawker's  barrow,  and 
the  wine-flavoured  passion-fruit  may  be  had  at 
threepence  a  dozen.  If  the  Australian  workman 
does  not  live  well,  it  is  because  he  does  not  care 
to,  or  his  wife  does  not  know  how  to  buy. 

For  clothing  of  all  kinds,  he  has  to  pay  high 
prices,  and  he  does  not  forget  while  doing  so  that 
he  is  contributing  to  the  maintenance  of  the  pro- 


Life  in  the  Cities  iii 

tected  industries  of  the  country.  To  do  him  jus- 
tice, he  does  not  complain  of  this,  for  there  is  no 
more  staunch  adherent  than  he  to  the  protective 
principles  which,  rightly  or  wrongly,  he  connects 
with  the  high  scale  of  wages  he  is  able  to  earn. 
The  necessary  luxuries  of  the  working-man,  tea 
and  tobacco,  are  both  cheap  and  of  good  quality 
in  Australia.  When  the  Australian  tariff  was 
framed,  the  Labour  representatives  in  the  Com- 
monwealth Parliament,  by  a  clever  combination 
with  the  Free  Trade  party,  obtained  the  exemption 
of  tea  from  any  duty  whatever,  contending  that  it 
is  one  of  the  Australian  working-man's  necessities. 
A  comparison  between  the  prices  paid  by  the 
British  and  Australian  workman  for  tobacco  is 
not  easily  effected,  since  the  Australian  usually 
smokes  the  best  American  tobacco,  which  he  buys 
in  the  form  of  a  hard  plug  containing  little  mois- 
ture. I  recently  obtained  in  London,  after  a  good 
deal  of  trouble,  a  plug  of  this  tobacco,  for  which  I 
paid  two  and  sixpence.  In  Australia,  the  same 
article  would  have  cost,  at  most,  but  one  and  six- 
pence. There  is  another  luxury  that  costs  less  to 
the  Australian  than  to  the  British  workman,  and 
it  is  to  his  own  credit  that  it  is  so.  The  Austral- 
ian contrives  to  spend  a  smaller  sum  upon  intoxi- 
cating drink,  although  the  public-house  prices  of 
beer  and  spirits  are  higher  in  Australia. 

These  are  some  of  the  material  advantages 
which  the  workman  enjoys  in  Australia,  and 
they   have   their   natural  complement   in  social 


112  Australian  Life 

advantages,  upon  which  the  better-class  workman 
sets  even  a  higher  value.  It  is  literally  true  in 
A-ustralia,  at  the  present  time,  that  there  is  no 
position  of  importance  in  the  State  to  which  an 
ambitious  and  able  man  may  not  climb.  The 
careers  of  the  men  who  were  Premiers  of  the  Aus- 
tralian States  at  the  time  these  words  were  writ- 
ten illustrate  this  fact  with  special  force.  The 
Premier  of  one  state  formerly  worked  in  a  flour 
mill  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  Parliament 
House  where  meets  the  Assembly  he  now  leads. 
Another  Premier  can  boast  that  he  once  carried 
his  swag  in  search  of  employment  through  the 
country  districts  of  his  state,  and  yet  another  was 
at  one  time  an  insurance  agent.  Instances  of  this 
kind  could  be  multiplied  to  any  extent,  for  they 
illustrate  the  rule  rather  than  the  exception.  The 
Australian  workman  full}"-  appreciates  these  possi- 
bilities, and  the  absence  of  class  distinctions  they 
imply,  and  shows  his  appreciation  by  an  inde- 
pendence of  conduct  which  is  very  noticeable.  It 
cannot  justly  be  said  that  this  independence  is 
allied  to  any  discourtesy  of  bearing,  but  he  knows 
his  own  value,  and  is  also  fully  alive  to  the  im- 
portance of  the  political  power  he  wields. 

The  ambition  of  the  Australian  workman  is 
usually  apparent  in  the  career  he  marks  out  for 
his  children.  To  them,  the  learned  professions 
are  open,  and  he  is  not  slow  to  take  advantage  of 
the  fact  that  the  State-subsidised  university  is  at 
his  very  door.     I  remember  a  typical  instance  of 


Life  in  the  Cities  113 

a  hard-working  tradesman  with  a  large  family, 
whose  second  son  had  shown  remarkable  ability 
when  attending  the  free  State  school.  With 
praiseworthy  self-denial,  this  man  paid  the  fees 
for  the  boy's  attendance  at  a  secondary  school 
until  he  matriculated,  and  then,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  his  eldest  son,  also  an  artisan,  entered 
him  at  the  univ^ersity.  The  boy  lived  at  home 
humbly  enough,  but  his  parents  were  careful  that 
there  should  be  nothing  in  his  dress  or  in  his  cir- 
cumstances that  should  mark  him  among  his 
fellow  students.  His  university  career  was  suc- 
cessful, for  he  took  a  surgeon's  degree,  and  he  is 
now  a  country  doctor  with  a  good  practice.  He 
has  been,  moreover,  able  to  help  his  younger 
brothers  and  sisters  to  follow  in  his  steps.  I^et 
it  be  said  again  that  this  is  no  exceptional  case, 
but  merely  an  instance  of  the  possibilities  for 
advancement  open  to  the  working  class  in  Aus- 
tralia. 

The  pleasures  of  the  workman  are  largely  gov- 
erned by  the  climatic  conditions  of  Australia, 
which  means  that  he  spends  a  great  deal  of  his 
leisure  in  the  open  air.  There  is  no  lack  of  space 
in  the  big  cities  if  he  has  a  mind  to  indulge  in 
cricket  or  football;  or  he  can  take  his  place  as  a 
spectator  and  watch  these  games  played  by  their 
finest  exponents.  Cycle  racing  has  never  lost  its 
hold  on  the  Australian  public,  and  there  are 
many  other  pleasant  ways  of  spending  the  Satur- 
day half-holiday.     The  number  of  whole  holidays 

8 


1 14  Australian  Life 

observed  in  Australia  is  not  small,  and  the  Aus- 
tralian knows  how  to  enjoy  himself  on  these  occa- 
sions. Sydney  Harbour  on  Boxing  Day  or 
Anniversary  Day  (January  26th)  presents  one  of 
the  finest  sights  imaginable,  with  its  fleets  of  gay 
excursion  steamers  all  crowded  with  happy,  well- 
dressed  people.  Cheap  excursion  trains  carry 
picnic  parties  away  to  shady  gullies,  where  the 
creeks  bubble  pleasantly  under  the  tall  tree-ferns, 
and  the  air  is  pure  and  exhilarating.  It  is  not 
far  from  any  big  city  to  the  seaside,  where  there 
are  broad  stretches  of  clean  sand,  and  fires  may 
be  lighted,  and  billies  boiled  in  the  shady  tea-tree 
scrub.  These  are  the  holiday  resorts,  not  of  the 
few,  but  of  the  many,  and  it  has  to  be  said  that 
the  Australian  method  of  keeping  a  holiday  goes 
far  to  justify  the  frequency  of  such  occasions. 

One  of  the  least  agreeable  features  of  the  Aus- 
tralian holiday  is  the  prominence  of  the  larrikin 
"push."  The  larrikin  has  his  equivalent  in  most 
big  cities,  and  may  not  differ  much  in  type  from 
the  English  Hooligan,  the  American  Tough,  or 
the  French  Apache,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  he  is  more  in  evidence  than  any  of  his  proto- 
types in  the  Old  World.  The  larrikin  pushes,  or 
gangs,  are  recruited  from  youths  of  the  working 
class,  whose  tastes  incline  in  the  direction  of  bru- 
tality and  conspiracy.  The  old  bait  of  mystery, 
always  so  attractive  to  a  certain  type  of  degen- 
erate, allures  many  of  them  to  the  ranks  of  the 
pushes,  some  of  which  claim  to  possess  the  organ- 


Life  in  the  Cities  115 

isation  of  a  crude  sort  of  secret  society.  One  in- 
genious Australian  writer'  declares  that  the  code 
of  rules  binding  one  well-known  Sydney  push 
prohibits  drunkenness  and  unchastity,  and  that 
the  common  bond  among  members  is  one  of  mur- 
der. Each  initiate,  before  being  admitted  to  full 
membership  of  the  society,  must  take  part  in  the 
doing  to  death  of  some  person  who  has  rendered 
himself  obnoxious  to  the  push,  and  must  after- 
wards sign  a  confession  admitting  the  full  guilt 
of  the  crime,  the  possession  of  which  document 
ensures  his  fidelity  to  the  gang.  These  startling 
statements  were  put  forward  in  apparent  serious- 
ness in  Blackwood' s  Magazine  of  July,  1901,  but 
no  convincing  evidence  in  support  of  them  was 
adduced. 

It  is  very  certain,  however,  that  the  secrets  of 
the  pushes,  if  they  have  any,  are  well  kept. 
Their  meetings  are  quite  apparent  to  any  ob- 
serving person  who  cares  to  look  for  them,  and  it 
can  be  proved  from  the  Australian  newspapers 
that  they  sometimes  deal  very  roughly  with  the 
policeman  who  concerns  himself  too  actively  in 
their  ordinary  pursuits.  Occasionally  a  battle 
between  two  rival  pushes  takes  place,  when  sticks 
and  stones  fly  about  freely,  and  sometimes  an  in- 
jured larrikin  finds  his  way  to  the  hospital.  He 
usually  professes  himself  unable  to  identify  his 
assailants,  and  in  the  absence  of  positive  evidence, 
it  is  difiScult  to  bring  the  offenders  to  justice.  I 
1  Mr.  Ambrose  Pratt. 


ii6  Australian  Life 

have  personally  known  cases  where  the  push  has 
provided  funds  for  the  legal  defence  of  a  member 
accused  of  some  crime;  and  I  have  known  of 
members  of  the  same  push  who  have  been  utterly 
deserted  in  their  hour  of  need. 

The  amusements  of  the  push — and  it  exists 
primarily  for  the  sake  of  amusement — are  dances, 
picnics,  and,  on  special  occasions,  organised 
rowdyism.  The  young  women  who  figure  at  the 
dances  and  picnics  have  the  same  taste  for  feathers 
and  high-heeled  shoes  that  distinguishes  the 
coster-girl,  and  the  same  facility  of  repartee,  dis- 
concerting in  its  allusive  obscurity.  The  male 
larrikin  at  one  time  favoured  a  distinctive  dress, 
consisting  of  a  short  coat  with  a  velvet  collar, 
an  open  vest,  and  narrow  neck-tie,  bell-bottomed 
trousers,  and  a  soft  felt  hat  with  a  broad  stiff  rim. 
Of  late  years,  this  costume  has  gone  out  of  vogue, 
and  has  been  replaced  by  nothing  likely  to  distin- 
guish the  push  member  from  his  fellow-man. 

Push  dances  are  remarkable  for  their  solemnity 
and  observance  of  push  etiquette,  and  for  a  weird 
dance  known  as  a  teetotum,  which  resembles 
dimly  the  ghost  of  a  waltz  fettered  in  heavy 
chains.  Push  picnics  are  enUvened  by  the  music 
of  the  mouth  organ  and  the  accordion,  and  by  a 
free  use  of  stimulants.  They  not  infrequently  end 
in  a  free  fight. 

It  is  difficult  to  make  any  excuse  for  the  exist- 
ence of  the  larrikin  and  his  push,  for  the  oppor- 
tunities for  rational  amusement  in  the  Australian 


Life  in  the  Cities  117 

cities  are  in  no  way  restricted.  The  efforts  of  the 
police  to  break  up  the  bands  are  checked,  in  some 
cases,  by  the  unwise  leniency  of  honorary  magis- 
trates, and  by  the  extreme  difficulty  in  proving 
any  punishable  offence  against  the  ringleaders. 
The  larrikin,  leaning  against  the  dead  wall  and 
spitting  idly  into  the  gutter,  is  an  eyesore  in  the 
Australian  cities,  and  an  intolerable  nuisance  as 
well.  When  his  worst  passions  are  roused,  he  is 
a  positive  source  of  danger,  and  the  perpetrator  of 
many  cowardly  crimes,  the  consequence  of  which 
he  too  often  contrives  to  escape.  His  existence 
may  well  be  a  source  of  uneasiness  to  those  con- 
cerned in  the  future  of  the  new  nation. 

The  worst  slums  of  the  Australian  cities  are 
undoubtedly  those  quarters  given  up  to  the  occu- 
pation of  the  coloured  aliens, — especially  the  Chi- 
nese and  Hindoos.  The  greater  part  of  the  laundry 
work  has  lately  passed  into  Chinese  hands,  and 
the  Chinese  cabinet-maker  has  also  entered  into 
very  serious  competition  with  the  Australian 
tradesman.  These  men  gravitate  to  the  most 
undesirable  quarter  of  the  town,  and,  by  herding 
together  in  defiance  of  all  laws  of  sanitation,  ren- 
der it  still  more  undesirable.  Opium-dens  and 
gambling-houses  are  open  night  and  day,  and 
form  an  attraction  for  the  most  degraded  of  the 
white  population  of  both  sexes.  Chinatown  has 
an  aspect  and  an  odour  all  its  own;  an  air  of 
shabbiness  and  dinginess  pervades  the  buildings, 
and  from  the  open    doors    come    indescribable 


ii8  Australian  Life 

whiffs  of  burning  joss-sticks  blended  with  decay- 
ing vegetable  matter. 

Chinatown  usually  contains  at  least  one  Chinese 
restaurant,  patronised  both  by  Orientals  and  white 
folks.  In  the  inner  room,  a  party  of  young  Bo- 
hemians, in  faultless  evening  dress,  may  be  seen 
enjoying  the  novelty  of  a  dinner  in  Chinatown, 
and  straining  the  resources  of  the  establishment 
by  demands  for  mysterious  dishes  and  piquant 
sauces.  In  the  large  outer  department,  grave 
Chinamen  empty  their  bowls  of  savoury  rice  with 
startling  rapidity  by  a  deft  manipulation  of  the 
chop-sticks,  and  a  pair  of  larrikins,  trying  to  imi- 
tate them,  fail  to  lift  as  much  as  one  grain  to  their 
lips  with  implements  so  unsatisfactory.  Pig- 
tailed  waiters  flit  nciselessly  hither  and  thither, 
and  the  watchful  proprietor,  bland  and  inscruta- 
ble, allows  nothing  to  escape  his  notice  from  his 
elevated  perch  near  the  door.  Next  door  is  a 
gambling-house,  where  tickets  are  marked  and 
fan-tan  is  played  in  an  inner  room,  while  not  far 
away  is  a  stuffy  chamber  where  four  or  five 
Chinamen  and  as  many  Europeans  are  dream- 
ing blissfully  in  an  atmosphere  tainted  with  the 
smell  of  burning  opium. 

The  distinctive  sights  of  the  Australian  streets 
include  the  Chinese  vegetable  merchant,  with  his 
two  heavy  baskets  of  vegetables,  balanced  on  a 
bamboo  pole,  supported  on  his  shoulders.  A 
group  of  Hindoo  or  Syrian  hawkers  may  be  seen 
passing  from  house  to  house,  pressing  their  cheap 


Life  in  the  Cities  119 

wares  in  the  most  imperfect  English.  More  pe- 
culiarly Australian  is  the  rabbit-man,  with  his 
stentorian  yell  of  "Wild  rabbits,  oh!"  and  his 
cart  with  a  frame  on  which  dozens  of  pairs  of 
slaughtered  bunnies  are  hanging.  One  shilling  a 
pair  is  the  usual  price,  and  the  rabbit-man  does  a 
thriving  trade  in  the  face  of  an  expiring  Australian 
prejudice  against  the  rabbit  as  food.  Australian 
shops  are  much  the  same  as  shops  anywhere  else, 
but  the  fishmonger  and  game-seller  sometimes 
festoons  his  shop  front  with  strings  of  bright- 
plumaged  parrots,  useless  as  food,  but  attractive 
to  the  eye.  Curious  fish  are  on  the  marble  slabs, 
pink  schnapper,  and  hideous  flat-head,  with  sil- 
ver barracouta  like  enormous  mackerel,  and  piles 
of  tiny  garfish.  The  game  includes  wild  duck, 
magpie-geese,  and  black  swan,  with  a  wallaby  or 
two  and  tails  of  the  larger  kangaroos.  The  wild 
turkey — which  is  really  a  bustard,  and  the  finest 
game  bird  Australia  produces — may  occasionally 
be  seen,  but  it  is  now  very  rare  and  shy.  The 
game-shop  and  the  fruit-shop  serve  best  to  remind 
the  visitor  that  he  is  in  an  Australian  city;  none 
of  the  others  differ  in  any  particular  from  the  shop 
of  a  British  city. 

A  stroll  through  a  suburban  street  in  the  cool 
of  the  evening  is  quite  another  affair.  Here  the 
houses  are  all  single-storied  bungalows,  or  villas, 
as  the  Australians  prefer  to  call  them,  each  stand- 
ing in  its  own  plot  of  garden.  Glance  over  the 
famous  pittosporum  hedge,  and  you  may  see  the 


I20  Australian  Life 

lawn  sprinkler  pleasantly  at  work  under  the  pep- 
per tree  that  grows  in  the  middle  of  the  grass  plot 
bordered  with  masses  of  bright  phlox  and  thriving 
roses  and  pelargoniums.  The  bamboo  blind, 
which  has  been  down  all  day  to  keep  the  sun  off 
the  housefront,  is  now  rolled  up,  and  in  an  easy- 
chair  on  the  veranda  reclines  pater-familias,  clad 
in  cool  flannels.  Doors  and  windows  are  open  to 
admit  the  evening  breeze,  but  before  each  is  a 
wire  screen  to  exclude  flies  and  mosquitoes. 
From  the  drawing-room  comes  the  sound  of 
voices,  mingled  with  the  strains  of  the  latest 
comic  opera.  It  is  a  glimpse  of  the  Australian 
at  home. 

There  is  an  air  of  roominess  and  privacy  about 
these  suburbs  that  stands  for  a  good  deal  of  solid 
comfort.  The  citizen  swings  in  his  hammock 
and  smokes  his  pipe  without  any  consciousness 
of  being  observed  from  the  top  floor  of  some 
building  close  at  hand,  for  a  day's  march  through 
the  suburbs  of  an  Australian  city  will  fail  to  re- 
veal anything  in  the  shape  of  "  residential  man- 
sions." The  most  arduous  task  of  the  amateur 
gardener  is  the  constant  use  of  the  watering-can; 
the  rest  is  done  by  Nature  with  a  lavish  hand. 
The  vine  and  the  fig  tree  are  by  no  means  im- 
possible, and  a  rough  erection  of  wooden  laths 
makes  an  ideal  fern-house.  These  things  figure 
very  largely  in  the  life  of  the  average  Australian 
city  dweller,  who  leaves  his  city  ofl5ce  at  five, 
changes  into  easy  clothing  as  soon  as  he  arrives 


Life  in  the  Cities  121 

home,  dines  comfortably  about  half-past  six,  and 
then  potters  about  his  garden  until  it  grows  dark. 
A  few  friends  may  call  for  a  game  of  cards  or  a 
little  music,  and  a  supper  follows  in  which  fruit 
and  light  wines  or  lemon  squash  are  prominent 
items.  The  oflSce  or  the  warehouse  claims  him  at 
nine  o'clock  the  next  day,  when,  as  we  have  seen, 
he  must  plunge  again  into  the  headlong  rush  of 
Australian  business. 


CHAPTER  X 

STATE  SOCIAI^ISM   AND  THE  I.ABOUR   PARTY 

THE  Australian  answers  truly  to  Aristotle's 
description  of  man  as  "  a  political  animal," 
and  his  interest  in  politics  may  be  set  down  as  the 
inevitable  result  of  the  intimate  relations  existing 
between  the  people  and  the  State.  The  choice  of 
his  rulers  is  a  matter  of  the  deepest  concern  to  a 
man  who  encounters  the  results  of  their  adminis- 
tration at  every  turn,  and  as  the  tendency  in  Aus- 
tralia is  to  increase  rather  than  to  diminish  the 
functions  of  the  State,  the  Australian  not  un- 
reasonably bases  his  political  opinions  upon  the 
events  of  his  everyday  life.  Those  who  dwell  in 
the  bush  have  the  State  for  landlord,  and  can,  in 
bad  seasons,  obtain  the  remittance  or  postpone- 
ment of  the  collection  of  rent.  The  State  owns 
the  railways  which  carry  their  produce  to  the  sea- 
ports, and,  by  an  increase  or  reduction  of  freights, 
may  materially  aflfect  their  prosperity.  The  State 
undertakes  the  education  of  their  children,  estab- 
lishing the  schools  and  maintaining  the  teachers, 
while  grants  of  money  for  the  construction  of 
roads  and  bridges  may  also  be  obtained  from  the 


State  Socialism  123 

State.  To  the  same  source,  they  look  for  police 
protection  and  postal  and  telegraphic  services, 
and  for  help  and  supervision  in  the  establishment 
of  new  industries.  After  bad  seasons,  the  State 
supplies  them  vi^ith  seed  wheat,  and  sometimes 
advances  money  to  tide  them  over  to  the  next 
harvest. 

For  the  artisans  and  miners,  the  State  does 
even  more.  It  regulates  the  conditions  under 
which  they  work  and  their  hours  of  labour,  and 
even  fixes  their  rate  of  wages.  It  decides  in- 
dustrial disputes  between  Labour  and  Capital, 
enforces  the  closing  of  shops  at  certain  hours,  and 
supervises  the  workshops  and  factories.  It  buys 
the  miner's  gold,  and  opens  up  markets  for  the 
producer  in  foreign  countries.  In  one  Australian 
province,  the  State  has  turned  publican,  and  re- 
tails beer  and  spirits  of  the  best  quality  at  the 
smallest  percentage  of  profit.  When  the  work- 
man falls  out  of  employment,  the  State  accepts 
the  responsibility  of  finding  work  for  him;  and 
when  he  becomes  too  old  to  toil  any  longer,  it 
pensions  him  off.' 

The  first  result  of  this  condition  of  afiairs  is  the 
existence  of  a  large  oSicial  class  in  the  employ- 
ment of  the  State.  Public  servants  there  are, 
of  course,  in  every  community,  but  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether  any  country  maintains  so  many  in 

'  The  functions  ascribed  to  the  State  still  diflfer  in  the 
various  political  divisions  of  Australia,  and  these  state- 
ments hold  good  only  for  some  of  the  Australian  States. 


124  AustS^lian  Life 

proportion  to  its  population  as  Australia.  The  ad- 
ministration of  the  vast  areas  of  public  lands,  the 
maintenance  and  working  of  thousands  of  miles 
of  public  railroads,  the  education  of  the  children, 
and  the  policing  of  the  country  alone  involve  the 
employment  of  many  thousands  of  civil  servants. 
Each  new  function  assumed  by  the  State  necessi- 
tates the  creation  of  a  fresh  department,  and  a 
further  addition  to  the  vast  army  of  the  State- 
employed. 

These  people  are  united  by  common  interests, 
their  position  being  defined  by  legislative  enact- 
ments which  affect  them  all  alike.  When  all 
exercised  the  franchise,  they  were  able  to  show 
their  resentment  at  measures  of  retrenchment 
and  economy  in  so  marked  a  manner  as  to  cause 
political  uneasiness,  and  in  one  state  at  least  it  has 
been  found  necessary  to  restrict  their  political 
representation  to  special  members  whom  they  may 
appoint  to  represent  their  interests  in  Parliament. 

As  the  State  is  so  large  an  employer  of  labour, 
it  is  only  natural  that  those  seeking  employment 
should  turn  first  to  the  State.  Short  hours,  regu- 
lar employment  in  a  position  which  can  only  be 
forfeited  by  misconduct,  and  a  salary  which  an- 
nually increases  by  a  small  sum,  are  strong  in- 
ducements to  the  father  who  wishes  to  place  his 
son  in  life.  As  a  consequence,  there  is  keen  com- 
petition for  all  Government  positions,  and  the 
interference  of  politicians  was  at  one  time  so  fre- 
quent as  to  give  rise  to  something  like  a  scandal, 


State  Socialism  125 

the  public  service  having  been  over-manned  with 
nominees  of  various  members  of  Parliament,  who 
seldom  cared  whether  the  servants  they  forced 
upon  the  country  possessed  any  special  fitness  for 
the  work  they  were  supposed  to  do.  A  strong 
manifestation  of  public  feeling  took  place  through- 
out Australia  in  consequence  of  this  practice,  and 
it  was  abolished,  the  public  service  being  removed 
— nominally  at  least — beyond  the  sphere  of  politi- 
cal influence. 

But  there  is  another  class  which  demands,  and 
frequently  obtains,  employment  from  the  Govern- 
ment. These  are  the  mechanics  and  artisans  of 
the  cities,  who  may  have  been  thrown  out  of  work 
owing  to  a  temporary  slackness  in  the  trades  in 
which  they  are  customarily  employed.  Such 
dull  seasons  not  infrequently  occur  in  the  Aus- 
tralian cities,  and  the  out-of-works  congregate 
upon  some  spare  plot  of  ground,  listening  to  the 
speeches  of  men  whose  one  cry  is  that  it  is  the 
duty  of  the  Government  to  provide  them  with 
employment.  These  meetings  of  the  unemployed 
usually  end  in  a  march  to  the  Government  oflSces, 
where  the  leading  agitators  demand  interviews 
from  members  of  the  Ministry  and  from  the  Gov- 
ernor. Should  they  obtain  the  desired  interview, 
they  demand  work  as  a  right,  referring  to  the 
many  public  works  it  will  be  necessary  to  con- 
struct in  the  future,  and  suggesting  that  some  of 
these  shall  be  put  in  hand  at  once,  the  cost  to  be 
met,  of  course,  from  borrowed  money.      These 


126  Australian  Life 

unemployed  of  the  cities  contrast  but  poorl}^  with 
the  unemployed  of  the  .bush,  who  bravely  shoul- 
der their  swags  and  tramp  off  in  search  of  the 
work  they  never  think  of  demanding  from  the 
State. 

A  reference  has  been  made  to  borrowed  moneys, 
for  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  some  notice  of  Aus- 
tralian financial  methods.  The  railways  and 
other  public  works  have  all  been  constructed  with 
money  borrowed  from  the  British  investor,  and 
these  loans  involve  the  payment  of  a  sum  of  more 
than  ;i^9, 000,000  each  year  in  interest  alone.  At 
present,  there  is  no  attempt  to  make  the  railways 
return  the  interest  upon  the  money  they  have 
cost  to  build,  or  any  further  sum  that  might  go 
toward  repaying  the  principal.  The  policy  is 
rather  adopted  of  working  the  railways  for  the 
immediate  benefit  of  the  people,  and  for  the  pur- 
pose of  developing  the  resources  of  the  country. 
Each  fresh  enterprise  means  an  addition  to  the 
debt  of  the  country,  and  it  cannot  be  disputed  that 
the  people  who  enjoy  the  convenience  and  cheap- 
ness of  State-owned  railways  in  a  land  that  is  far 
from  being  settled  are  piling  up  for  their  descend- 
ants a  heavy  obligation,  that  must  some  day  be 
met.  A  people  holding  the  advanced  opinion  that 
no  man  willing  and  able  to  work  should  be  refused 
employment  by  the  Government  ought  at  least  to 
avoid  the  injustice  of  indulging  in  philanthropy, 
while  leaving  the  bill  to  be  settled  at  some  time 
in  the  difficult  future. 


State  Socialism  127 

It  is  the  knowledge  that  the  future  of  Australia 
has  been  so  liberally  discounted  by  the  loan  policy 
that  tempers  the  admiration  which  is  certainly  due 
to  the  Australians  for  their  provision  for  the  aged. 
There  are  now  many  aged  couples  in  Australia 
who  are  living  in  content  in  the  little  home  they 
have  made,  and  who,  under  a  less  humane  system, 
would  be  separated  and  forced  into  charitable  in- 
stitutions. Not  all  the  Australian  States  have 
adopted  the  system  of  old-age  pensions,  and  it  is 
true  that  instances  have  occurred  of  these  benefits 
bestowed  upon  persons  undeserving  of  them. 
These,  however,  are  but  faults  of  administra- 
tion, and  cannot  be  urged  against  the  principle 
itself. 

In  the  same  spirit  of  humanity,  Australia  has 
experimented  with  legislation  designed  for  settling 
the  differences  between  Capital  and  Labour,  and 
preventing  the  occurrence  of  strikes.  The  laws 
under  notice  provide  that  all  such  disputes  shall 
be  settled  by  an  Arbitration  Court,  over  which  a 
judge  presides,  while  representatives  of  both  sides 
help  in  its  constitution.  It  is  claimed  that  these 
courts  have  worked  satisfactorily  on  the  whole, 
although  some  grave  defects  have  come  to  light 
in  the  operation  of  the  Arbitration  Acts.  This 
principle  of  compulsory  arbitration  is  one  of  the 
foremost  doctrines  of  the  political  party  known 
as  the  Australian  Labour  party.  As  this  politi- 
cal party,  now  rapidly  growing  in  power  in  the 
Commonwealth,  promises  to  exercise  a  notable 


128  Australian  Life 

influence  upon  the  conditions  of  life  in  Australia, 
and  as  it  advocates  a  wide  extension  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  State  socialism,  some  account  of  it  and 
its  aims  is  necessary. 

The  weapon  employed  by  the  Australian  work- 
man to  secure  the  eight-hour  day  was  Trade 
Unionism;  and  in  order  to  celebrate  his  victory, 
he  appropriated  an  annual  holiday.  A  monu- 
ment bearing  the  inscription,  "  Eight  hours  work, 
eight  hours  recreation,  eight  hours  rest,"  is 
erected  in  the  city  of  Ballarat  to  the  memory  of 
one  Galloway,  a  protagonist  of  the  cause  in  that 
city.  Elsewhere  in  Australia,  men  equally  un- 
known to  fame  are  similarly  preserved  from  ob- 
livion, but  the  Festival  of  Eight-Hours'  Day  is  the 
most  striking  memorial  of  the  first  Labour  vic- 
tory. From  that  time  forward,  the  Labour  party 
trusted  in  its  unions,  and  fought  Capital  by  means 
of  strikes  and  threats  of  strikes.  For  a  time  the 
unions  carried  all  before  them,  and  the  men 
flocked  to  their  banners.  Trade  was  brisk  and 
work  was  plentiful,  so  that  the  unions  were  able 
to  accumulate  very  considerable  funds.  They 
pressed  their  advantage  too  heavily,  however,  and 
drove  the  employers  into  a  combination  against 
them. 

The  two  opposing  forces  came  into  collision  in 
the  year  1891,  with  results  from  which  Australia 
has  not  yet  recovered.  The  quarrel  began  with 
a  maritime  strike,  which  laid  up  the  vessels 
plying  between  the  various  Australian  ports,  and 


State  Socialism  129 

soon  spread  far  and  wide  throughout  the  conti- 
nent. The  whole  pastoral  industry  was  dislo- 
cated by  a  strike  of  shearers,  and,  among  other 
actions,  the  Labour  leaders  alienated  public  sym- 
pathy by  calling  out  the  gas  stokers,  and  leaving 
the  city  of  Melbourne  in  darkness.  It  was  a  long 
battle,  and  bitterly  fought  out.  The  men  had 
ample  funds  to  draw  upon  in  the  beginning,  and 
showed  remarkable  courage  and  resolution  in 
fighting  to  the  very  last.  But  they  were  fighting 
a  losing  battle,  in  which  Australian  Trade  Union- 
ism was  shattered  by  a  blow  from  which  it  was 
predicted  it  would  never  recover. 

It  is  true  that  the  unions  have  never  recovered 
the  prestige  they  lost  in  the  great  strike,  but  the 
defeat  of  the  men  stiffened  the  cause  of  I^abour  in 
Australia  as  even  victory  could  not  have  done. 
The  method  of  fighting  was  altered — that  is  all, 
and  the  scene  of  combat  was  transferred  to  the 
ballot-box.  The  Australian  workman,  remem- 
bering that  he  had  a  vote,  determined  to  employ 
it  to  the  one  end  of  furthering  the  object  of  the 
Labour  party.  The  representatives  of  Labour 
who  contrived  to  be  returned  to  Parliament 
went  to  work  in  -the  same  way — they  consistently 
played  one  political  party  against  another,  while 
standing  aloof  from  both,  ever  on  the  look-out  for 
some  legislative  advantage  for  Labour. 

Before  the  Federation  of  the  Australian  States, 
the  Labourites  were  continually  held  in  check  by 
the  Upper  Houses  of  State  Legislature,  composed 


I30  Australian  Life 

either  of  nominee  members  or  members  elected  on 
a  very  restricted  franchise.  The  Commonwealth, 
however,  has  been  provided  with  a  constitution 
more  democratic  than  any  of  the  Australian  States 
possesses,  since  the  broad  principle  of  universal 
adult  suffrage  governs  the  election  of  both  legis- 
lative chambers.  The  accomplishment  of  the 
Federation  furnished  the  Labour  party  with  an 
opportunity,  and  they  were  the  more  readily  able 
to  grasp  it,  because,  with  the  new  era  in  Aus- 
tralian history,  they  broadened  their  base  and 
extended  their  objects.  From  its  inception,  the 
Federal  Labour  party  has  been  devoted  to  State 
Socialism,  and  has  attracted  supporters,  and  espe- 
cially leaders,  who  are  Labourites  only  in  one 
sense  of  the  word. 

The  majority  of  the  Labour  members  of  the 
Commonwealth  Parliament  are  not  workmen,  but 
professional  men — barristers,  doctors,  journalists, 
and  master  printers.  The  British  workman,  who 
has  a  profound  mistrust  of  the  class  immediately 
above  him,  prefers  to  give  his  vote  to  a  man  of 
his  own  class,  or  to  one  whom  he  describes  as  a 
"real  gentleman."  The  Australian  workmen,  on 
the  other  hand,  have  more  than  a  suspicion  that  the 
disaster  of  the  great  strike  was  brought  about  by 
unskilful  leadership.  "  Lions  led  by  asses,"  they 
were  called  at  the  time,  and  the  phrase  sticks. 
They  have  now  chosen  for  their  leaders  men  who 
are  fighting  their  way  upward  in  the  professional 
ranks,  and  they  have  no  reason  to  complain  of  the 


State  Socialism  131 

result  of  their  choice.  The  leaders  of  the  Com- 
monwealth Ivabour  party,  and  its  representatives 
generally,  are  equal  in  ability,  education,  and 
general  grasp  of  political  affairs  to  those  -with 
whom  they  come  politically  in  contact. 

What  the  party  has  accomplished,  and  hopes  to 
accomplish,  can  best  be  gathered  by  reference  to 
the  programme  put  forward  for  the  elections  at 
the  end  of  1903.  The  main  planks  of  the  plat- 
form were:  a  White  Australia,  arbitration  and 
conciliation,  old-age  pensions,  nationalisation  of 
monopolies,  a  citizen  defence  force,  restriction  of 
public  borrowing,  and  navigation  laws.  The  first 
of  these  objects  had  been  gained  by  the  passing 
of  laws  during  the  term  of  the  first  Common- 
wealth Parliament,  by  which  coloured  aliens  are 
excluded  from  Australia.  The  second  and  third 
objects  involve  the  application  to  the  whole  con- 
tinent of  principles  enforced  in  some  of  the  states, 
though  not  in  all.  The  fourth  plank  in  the 
lyabour  platform  is  capable  of  a  very  wide  inter- 
pretation. Among  the  other  monopolies  it  is  pro- 
posed to  place  under  State  management  may  be 
mentioned  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquor  and  to- 
bacco. The  lyabourites  also  advocate  State  de- 
velopment of  the  deposits  of  iron  ore  in  Australia, 
and  the  establishment  of  a  State  bank  of  issue, 
and  State  life  and  fire  insurance  departments. 
From  the  mining  of  iron  by  the  State  to  the  min- 
ing of  precious  metals  is  an  easy  step,  and  the 
advocates  of  private  enterprise  are  able  to  see  in 


132  Australian  Life 

this  vaguely  worded  policy  a  very  disquieting 
menace. 

The  restriction  of  public  borrowing  implies  an 
alternative  of  heavy  direct  taxation,  if  public 
works  in  Australia  are  to  be  constructed  in  the 
future  as  in  the  past.  This  taxation,  the  Labour 
party  indicates,  should  take  the  form  of  a  land 
tax,  framed  in  such  a  way  as  to  press  with  special 
weight  upon  absentee  owners  and  the  proprietors 
of  unimproved  lands.  In  any  case,  the  members 
of  the  party  adhere  firmly  to  the  opinion  that  the 
large  public  debt  of  Australia  should  not  be  further 
increased,  and  by  consistently  maintaining  this 
view  command  the  sympathy  of  many  who  are 
not  in  accord  with  their  general  aims. 

Upon  this  programme,  the  Labour  party  went 
to  the  polls  for  the  Commonwealth  election  of 
1903.  For  many  months  before  the  election,  the 
labour  organisations  were  at  work,  distributing 
propaganda,  and  selecting  suitable  candidates. 
For  the  women's  vote,  exercised  for  the  first  time 
at  that  election,  the  proposal  for  the  regulation  of 
the  liquor  trade  was  a  tempting  bait,  since  the 
experience  of  New  Zealand  and  South  Australia 
has  shown  that  in  this  subject  of  all  others  the 
woman  rather  is  most  keenly  interested.  The  re- 
sult of  the  election  was  a  remarkable  triumph  for 
the  party,  which  received  a  notable  accession  to 
the  number  of  its  members  in  both  Houses,  and 
especially  in  the  Senate,  or  Upper  House  of  Legis- 
lature. In  the  session  that  followed  an  unexpected 


State  Socialism  133 

turn  of  the  political  wheel  gave  the  Labourites  an 
opportunity  of  assuming  ofiSce.  Mr.  Watson,  the 
leader  of  the  party,  succeeded  in  forming  a  Minis- 
try, and  the  world  was  afforded  the  spectacle  of  a 
continent  of  three  million  square  miles  being  gov- 
erned by  representatives  of  the  working-classes. 
After  a  few  months'  tenure  of  office,  however,  the 
Labour  Ministry  had  to  face  a  combination  of  the 
opposing  parties,  which  was  brought  about  by  the 
too  Socialistic  tendency  of  its  proposed  legislation. 
The  Labour  party  was  accordingly  forced  to 
vacate  the  Government  benches,  but  not  before  its 
leaders  had  shown  their  possession  of  considerable 
administrative  firmness  and  ability.  The  Labour 
party  still  remains  the  only  political  organisation 
in  Australia  which  possesses  cohesion  and  a  defi- 
nite policy,  and  to  this  fact  a  large  measure  of  its 
success  may  be  attributed. 


CHAPTER  XI 


GOIvDEN    AUSTRALIA 


IN  order  to  understand  how  Australia  was 
quickened  into  life  as  if  by  magic,  when  the 
golden  discoveries  of  half  a  century  ago  were 
made,  it  is  necessary  to  visit  one  of  the  inland 
cities  called  into  existence  at  that  period.  Of 
these,  the  city  of  Ballarat  is  perhaps  the  most 
famous,  and  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting illustrations  of  the  transformation  effected 
in  fifty  years  of  Australian  history.  Standing  in 
a  broad  and  fertile  valley,  this  trim  and  well-built 
city  of  forty  thousand  people  to-day  bears  little 
resemblance  to  any  preconceived  notion  one  may 
have  formed  of  a  mining  town.  Its  principal 
street  is  an  avenue  two  hundred  feet  wide,  with  a 
double  row  of  tall  oaks  and  eucalyptus  trees  run- 
ning up  its  centre.  In  the  very  heart  of  the  city  is 
a  public  square,  where  white  marble  statues,  that 
stand  unsoiled  in  the  open  air,  have  been  set  up 
in  honour  of  Shakespeare,  Burns,  and  Moore. 
Looking  eastward  from  this  square,  beyond  the 
outskirts  of  the  city,  the  land  rises  to  two  great 
volcanic  hills,  clad  from  foot  to  crest  in  forests  of 
134 


Golden  Australia  135 

dark-leaved  eucalyptus.  Broad  straight  streets 
intersect  the  main  avenue  at  regular  intervals, 
and  each  of  these  in  its  turn  is  an  avenue  of  euca- 
lyptus, oak,  and  pine.  Pleasant  villas  and  neat 
cottages  line  the  streets,  and  everywhere  are  gar- 
dens and  trees.  On  the  western  boundary  of  the 
city  was  once  a  dismal  swamp,  now  converted  into 
a  beautiful  lake,  fringed  with  weeping-willows 
and  surrounded  by  plantations  of  ornamental 
trees.  On  the  farther  shore  of  the  lake  is  a  beau- 
tiful pleasure  ground,  where  marble  statues  gleam 
amid  fern  grottoes  and  rose  bowers,  and  children 
play  all  day  on  lawns  of  soft  English  grass  shaded 
by  trees  drawn  from  every  quarter  of  the  globe. 
It  is  a  city  of  gardens  rather  than  a  city  of  gold. 

Sixty  years  ago,  King  Billy  and  his  tribe  of 
aborigines  roamed  in  undisputed  possession  of  the 
valley,  then  covered  with  virgin  bush.  Ten  years 
later,  a  hundred  thousand  diggers  were  living 
under  canvas  on  the  field,  and  the  roaring  days 
of  Ballarat  had  begun.  Some  of  those  diggers 
are  still  alive  in  Ballarat,  old  men  who  have  seen 
the  city  advance  through  its  fifty  years  of  history, 
and  can  point  to  the  spot  where  some  tall  build- 
ing stands  and  say,  "  Here  I  sank  my  first  shaft, 
and  there  I  bottomed  on  a  hatful  of  nuggets." 
Ballarat,  these  veterans  will  tell  you,  has  its  spots 
of  historical  and  romantic  interest.  Here  is  the 
forge  where  one  picturesque  digger  had  his  horse 
shod  with  shoes  of  gold,  and  hard  by  is  the  hotel 
where  lucky   miners   lighted    their    pipes  with 


136  Australian  Life 

five-pound  notes,  and  adorned  the  barmaids  with 
necklaces  made  of  virgin  nuggets.  The  theatre 
where  I^ola  Montez  sang  and  danced  her  way  into 
the  hearts  of  thousands  of  red-shirted  men — not 
one  woman  in  the  whole  house — and  the  stage 
where  she  stood  bowing  amid  a  golden  shower  of 
nuggets  and  specimens;  these  have  been  pulled 
down,  but  a  monument  marks  the  spot  where  the 
digger  and  the  soldier  tried  conclusions — the  site 
of  the  Eureka  Stockade. 

Twenty  years  after  the  gold  discoveries,  Bal- 
larat  was  a  city  of  wood  and  canvas.  On  ' '  The 
Corner,"  not  far  from  the  present  Square  of 
Statues,  was  a  busy  share  mart,  where  men  stood 
all  day  in  the  open  air,  buying  and  selling  mining 
scrip.  The  roar  of  quartz  batteries  lulled  the 
children  to  sleep  each  night,  and  between  the 
shops  and  houses  were  reared  the  "poppet  heads  ' ' 
and  heaps  of  tailings  that  marked  the  situation  of 
active  mining  operations.  When  a  rich  discovery 
was  made,  the  throng  of  open-air  speculators  on 
' '  The  Corner ' '  stretched  across  the  wide  street, 
and  undeterred  by  the  fall  of  night,  these  gamblers 
continued  to  buy  and  sell  their  shares  by  the 
flickering  light  of  an  occasional  candle.  "Coined 
into  sovereigns,"  your  ancient  guide  will  tell  you, 
"the  gold  taken  out  of  Ballarat  would  stretch  in  a 
long  line  across  the  continent.  But,"  he  will 
add,  with  a  mournful  shake  of  his  head,  "very 
little  of  it  has  remained  in  the  place. ' ' 

But  Ballarat  does  not  live  in  the  past.     The 


Golden  Australia  137 

worked-out  mines  have  been  filled  up,  the  un- 
sightly "mullock  heaps"  have  been  removed, 
while  woollen  mills  and  factories  for  the  manu- 
facture of  agricultural  machinery  have  been 
erected  on  the  exploited  ground.  In  the  outskirts 
of  the  city,  mines  may  still  be  seen,  and  any  one 
curious  and  adventurous  enough  may  descend 
thousands  of  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth  to 
see  the  miners  working  the  veins  of  sparkling 
quartz.  Here  and  there,  a  vacant  area  of  land, 
scarred  with  hundreds  of  abandoned  shafts,  re- 
mains as  witness  of  the  thoroughness  with  which 
the  gold  district  has  been  explored.  But  the 
golden  era  of  Ballarat  is  practically  at  an  end, 
and  the  city  is  now  the  centre  of  one  of  the  most 
fertile  agricultural  districts  in  all  Australia. 

The  miners  went  to  Ballarat  and  stayed  there, 
but  auriferous  Australia  is  dotted  with  deserted 
mining  camps  where  nothing  remains  to  recall  the 
glories  of  the  past,  except  the  gravel  heaps  and 
gaping  holes  the  diggers  left  behind  them.  A 
store,  a  post-ofl5ce,  a  hotel  or  two,  and  half  a 
dozen  cottages,  with  perhaps  a  noisome  little 
Chinese  camp  to  prove  that  the  yellow  man  can 
glean  a  living  from  the  leavings  of  the  white  man. 
And  in  its  palmy  days,  the  "  rush"  had  been  a 
human  ant-hill,  where  forty  thousand  diggers 
toiled  feverishly  all  day,  and  drank,  gambled,  and 
sang  through  the  nights  in  their  fire-lit  canvas 
tents! 

These  are  the  dying  goldfields  and  the  dead 


138  Australian  Life 

ones.  Over  in  Western  Australia  is  a  golden  city 
in  the  desert,  not  ten  years  old,  but  already  replete 
with  all  the  conveniences  of  a  great  modern  city. 
Here  in  Kalgoorlie,  men  live  by  gold  alone,  and 
talk  only  of  mines  and  mining  shares.  Day  and 
night,  the  thud  of  the  quartz  batteries  is  never 
hushed,  and  almost  every  day,  a  precious  freight 
of  golden  bars  and  cakes  is  despatched  by  train 
to  the  capital  for  coinage.  It  is  a  city  of  big 
mines,  equipped  with  all  the  most  modern  appli- 
ances for  extracting  the  last  fraction  of  gold  from 
the  ore.  Kalgoorlie  is  situated  in  the  arid  belt, 
and  since  the  operations  of  these  mines  require  a 
plentiful  supply  of  water,  a  stream  has  been 
dammed  and  a  great  reservoir  made  near  the 
coast.  From  this  reservoir,  the  water  is  pumped 
through  steel  pipes  for  a  distance  of  more  than 
two  hundred  miles  to  drive  the  engines  and  fill 
the  sluices  of  the  Kalgoorlie  mines.  It  is  a  won- 
derful place,  this  golden  city  in  the  desert.  In  its 
big  hotels,  bronzed  prospectors  in  evening  dress 
discuss  their  future  plans  over  elaborate  cham- 
pagne dinners.  In  another  month's  time,  these 
men,  clad  in  flannel  shirt  and  soiled  moleskins, 
and  begrimed  with  the  red  dust  of  the  dry-blow- 
ing machine,  will  be  living  on  tinned  meat  and 
condensed  water.  Now  they  ride  on  electric 
trams  and  motor-cars,  and  take  their  pleasure  in 
a  great  theatre  or  at  a  race-course  where  stakes 
worth  a  thousand  pounds  are  decided. 

Two  hundred  miles  further  inland,  a  straggling 


Golden  Australia  139 

procession  of  men  is  making  its  way  across  the 
unknown  desert  to  a  place  which,  men  say,  holds 
wealth  surpassing  the  mines  of  Kalgoorlie.  Well 
in  the  front  of  the  procession  ride  the  cyclists, 
each  with  his  store  of  water  in  a  tin  cylinder  that 
is  strapped  in  the  diamond  frame  of  his  machine. 
The  cyclist  prospector  carries  food  and  water  only, 
leaving  the  rest  of  his  belongings  to  be  borne  by 
the  slower  drays  that  follow  in  his  track.  Next 
come  the  horsemen  and  camel  riders,  and  men 
driving  buggies  drawn  by  teams  of  horses;  and 
after  them  the  heavy  drays  and  the  long-drawn- 
out  train  of  footmen.  Some  of  these  carry  their 
swags,  some  trundle  their  tools  and  belongings  in 
wheelbarrows,  and  one  or  two  have  packed  their 
necessaries  in  a  barrel,  and,  fastening  the  head 
securely  in,  roll  it  patiently  over  the  track. 
These,  and  the  man  who  is  pushing  a  baby's  per- 
ambulator, give  a  touch  of  comedy  to  the  "rush" 
that  is  making  its  way  to  the  new  find  at  the 
"Back  of  Beyond." 

But  the  situation  holds  all  the  possibilities  of 
the  grimmest  of  tragedies.  If,  as  too  often  hap- 
pens, these  men  who  tramp  so  bravely  and  hope- 
fully across  that  arid  plain  are  only  pursuing  a 
will-o'-the-wisp,  a  phantom  Eldorado  that  van- 
ishes with  its  first  gleam  of  golden  promise,  some 
of  them  will  never  come  back.  Every  one  of 
them  knows  it,  from  the  youngster  who  pushes 
eagerly  forward  with  shining,  hopeful  eyes,  to  the 
stern-lipped  veteran,    grey  with  the  disappoint- 


I40  Australian  Life 

ment  and  hardships  of  a  hundred  "  rushes."  If 
they  stopped  to  reckon  up  the  risks,  their  chance  of 
"pegging  out ' '  a  good  claim  would  be  a  very  small 
one.  Therefore,  the  prospector  must  put  dangers 
behind  him,  or  face  them  with  the  pluck  and  en- 
durance that  comes  from  a  brave  and  hopeful 
spirit.  The  whitening  bones  of  camels  and  horses 
are  not  the  only  objects  that  serve  to  remind  the 
traveller  on  these  Western  plains  that  if  the  re- 
wards offered  are  great,  the  risks  are  great  also. 
Wherever  the  prospector  has  been,  there  may  be 
found  the  graves  of  the  pioneers — just  a  mound 
of  sand,  with  a  rough  railing  of  wood,  fencing  it 
from  the  surrounding  desert.  Sometimes  a  wooden 
slab  or  tin  plate  proclaims  the  name  of  the  man 
who  rests  there,  but  very  often  these  graves  in 
the  wilderness  are  nameless,  because  the  names 
of  the  dead  men  were  not  known  to  the  miners 
who  buried  them  there. 

Their  story  they  could  easily  have  told,  for 
many  of  them  had  been  within  an  ace  of  enacting 
it  themselves,  A  too  bold  incursion  into  un- 
known wastes,  a  dried-up  water-hole,  and  an 
empty  water-bag,  and  then  the  awful  delirium  of 
thirst  under  a  fiery  sun.  And  somewhere  on  the 
green  Eastern  coast,  a  lonely  woman  waiting  for 
a  letter  that  never  comes.  Every  Australian  pro- 
spector knows  that  story  by  heart. 

But  let  us  accompany  our  Argonauts  in  their 
plucky  expedition  to  the  rush  at  ' '  Back  of  Be- 
yond."     On  arrival  there,  they  learn  the  good 


Golden  Australia  141 

news  that  a  big  reef  has  certainly  been  located, 
and  that  the  prospects  for  alluvial  miners  are 
more  than  promising.  The  ground  is  soon  pegged 
out  in  all  directions,  and  the  "  dry  blowers  "  can 
be  seen  at  work  all  over  the  field,  sifting  the 
alluvial  soil  through  sieves  which  allow  the  dust 
and  sand  to  pass  but  retain  the  golden  nuggets. 
From  somewhere, — apparently  from  the  trackless 
wilderness, —  a  grog-seller  has  arrived  with  his 
barrels  and  bottles,  and  is  already  doing  a  roaring 
business  in  a  tent  which  a  small  hand-written 
card,  pinned  on  the  tent  flap,  proclaims  to  be  a 
hotel.  Another  man  is  distilling  clear  tasteless 
water  from  the  salty  mixture  in  the  lake,  and  sell- 
ing it  at  half  a  crown  a  gallon.  The  camp  has 
passed  from  the  vague  realms  of  rumour  and 
hearsay  into  the  region  of  absolute  facts. 

Work  is  going  on  busily  everywhere,  when  the 
sound  of  a  tin  dish  beaten  with  a  stick  is  heard — 
the  call  for  a  "  roll-up."  In  an  instant,  work  is 
at  a  standstill,  and  every  occupant  of  the  camp 
hastens  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  to  discover 
what  matter  of  common  interest  is  to  be  settled. 
The  cause  of  the  "  roll-up  "  is  soon  made  known: 
a  miner's  tent  has  been  robbed,  and  his  chamois- 
leather  bag  of  nuggets  stolen.  The  victim  nar- 
rates the  circumstances,  and  explains  his  reasons 
for  suspecting  some  other  member  of  the  camp. 
Some  of  the  miners  at  once  seize  and  search  the 
accused  man  while  others  go  to  his  tent,  where 
the  stolen  gold  is  discovered,  hidden  in  the  thief's 


142  Australian  Life 

roll  of  blankets.  In  five  minutes,  judgment  is 
pronounced — the  thief  must  leave  the  camp  within 
an  hour's  time.  He  must  pack  his  swag  and  fill 
his  water-bag,  and  then  take  his  chance  upon  the 
track,  for  they  have  no  use  for  him  or  his  kind  at 
the  Back  of  Beyond  Rush.  To  the  credit  of  the 
prospector,  it  must  be  said  that  the  necessity  for 
this  rough-and-ready  justice  is  only  occasionally 
felt,  for  the  men  who  have  pluck  enough  to  make 
their  way  to  these  early  rushes,  have  too  much 
character  to  commit  any  offence  so  repugnant  to 
the  mind  of  the  digger  as  tent  robbery.  We  will 
leave  Back  of  Beyond  while  its  future  is  still  un- 
defined. It  may  be  that  beneath  its  red  sands  it 
hides  veins  of  rich  ore  that  will  make  it  another 
Kalgoorlie;  or  six  months  hence  there  may  be 
nothing  but  a  heap  of  empty  meat  tins  to  show 
that  men  had  once  built  golden  hopes  on  the 
foundation  of  its  barren  sands. 

On  one  of  these  western  mining  camps,  there 
occurred  a  curious  mining  dispute  between 
Capital  and  Labour.  Capital  in  this  instance 
was  represented  by  the  local  publican,  who  re- 
tailed beer  to  the  thirsty  miners  at  the  price  of 
one  shilling  for  a  large  glass.  The  miners,  of 
course,  enacted  the  part  of  Labour,  and  demanded 
that  the  price  should  be  reduced  by  one  half,  since 
gold  was  becoming  scarcer  and  less  easily  won. 
Secure  from  competition,  the  publican  held  his 
ground,  and  a  beer  strike  was  proclaimed  by  the 
men.      For  some  weeks,   the  conflict  went   on. 


Golden  Australia  143 

when  the  publican,  who  possessed  some  political 
influence,  arranged  that  the  Minister  of  Mines 
should  visit  the  fields.  On  the  arrival  of  that 
dignitary, — who  came  in  all  innocence, — the  men 
held  a  meeting,  and  declared  an  exemption  for 
three  days,  in  order  that  the  event  might  be 
celebrated  in  a  fitting  manner.  It  need  hardly 
be  said  that  the  exemption  was  indefinitely  pro- 
longed, and  that  nothing  more  was  heard  of  the 
strike.  The  device  of  the  beer  strike,  however, 
has  since  then  been  adopted  with  success  in  more 
than  one  remote  Australian  township,  where  hu- 
manity is  dry  and  liquor  over- expensive. 

Between  these  newly  made  mining  camps  of  the 
day  before  yesterday  and  the  fifty-year-old  golden 
cities  of  the  Kastern  states,  the  contrast  is  as  strik- 
ing as  anything  afibrded  by  Australia,  the  land 
of  contrasts.  And  yet  there  is  only  the  history 
of  a  generation  between  them.  The  sons  of  the 
men  who  made  the  garden  cities  of  the  East  are 
helping  to  make  Kalgoorlie  to-day.  In  time, 
they  too  will  cover  the  scarred  earth  with  a  mantle 
of  green,  will  mend  the  unsightly  wounds,  and 
smooth  away  the  traces  of  the  ugliness  they 
caused  in  their  fierce  greed  for  gold.  They  will 
make  a  pleasant  city  where  life  will  be  well 
ordered,  and  where  they  may  rest  after  their  ad- 
ventures, and  enjoy  the  fruits  of  their  labours. 
But  the  adventurous  spirit  that  moved  them  to 
leave  the  sober  streets  and  waving  trees  of  Bal- 
larat,  as  it  moved  their  fathers  to  turn  their  backs 


144  Australian  Life 

on  the  greener  fields  of  an  older  land,  will  not 
allow  their  children  to  sit  still  while  there  remains 
new  country  to  be  explored.  Ten  years  ago,  the 
treasures  of  Kalgoorlie  lay  hidden  and  unsus- 
pected; and  Australia  is  wide  enough  and  little 
enough  known  to  still  hold  the  secrets  of  other 
Ballarats  and  other  Kalgoorlies. 

"  In  there,"  said  an  old  bushman  to  me  once, 
pointing  inland,  "  there  's  all  the  wealth  of  the 
world — diamonds  and  rubies,  gold  and  opals,  in 
plenty.  Not  half  of  them  will  be  found  in  my 
time,  nor  in  yours  either.  No,  nor  in  the  time  of 
our  children,  and  our  children's  children.  That 
would  n't  do.  Australia  is  the  richest  country  in 
the  world,  but  it 's  the  driest  and  most  desolate." 

It  is  the  gold  at  the  foot  of  the  rainbow  that 
supplies  the  key  to  the  restlessness  of  young 
Australia. 


HANNAN  STREET,  KALQOORLIC,  IN   1905. 


CHAPTER  XII 


FARM   AND    FACTORY 


THE  selector,  with  his  six  hundred  and  forty 
acres  or  more  of  virgin  land,  is  common  to 
the  whole  of  Australia.  Year  by  year,  he  adds  a 
little  more  to  the  area  of  laud  under  cultivation, 
eking  out  his  existence  in  the  meantime  by  a 
little  stock-raising,  dairj'ing,  poultry-farming, 
and  the  like.  The  uses  to  which  the  cleared 
land  is  put  vary  according  to  the  locality  and  the 
nature  of  the  soil,  for  in  a  country  with  so  re- 
markable a  range  of  climate  as  Australia  pos- 
sesses, possibilities  of  all  kinds  exist.  Between 
the  Tasmanian  gardener — who  grows  apples  for 
the  lyOndon  markets,  small  fruits  for  jam-making, 
and  root  vegetables  for  the  warmer  states  on  the 
mainland — and  the  Queensland  planter — who  ex- 
periments with  cotton,  coffee,  tobacco,  arrowroot, 
bananas,  and  other  tropical  products — there  is 
little  that  the  soil  cannot  be  made  to  produce. 
The  limited  nature  of  the  local  market  and  the 
position  of  Australia,  precluding  until  recently  the 
possibility  of  exporting  produce  of  a  perishable 

lO 

145 


146  Australian  Life 

kind,  have  retarded  the  development  of  many  of 
these  primary  industries.  The  latter  difficulty 
has  now  been  partially  overcome,  with  the  result 
that  a  fresh  stimulus  has  been  given  to  a  number 
of  these  special  enterprises. 

In  every  state  are  wide  areas  of  land  suitable 
for  the  growth  of  cereals,  some  of  it — and  notably 
the  Queensland  uplands,  known  as  the  Darling 
Downs,  and  the  wheat  belt  of  South  Australia — 
requiring  little  or  no  clearing.  Much  of  the  best 
wheat  land  in  the  south-east  of  the  continent  is 
covered  with  a  growth  of  mallee  {^Eucalyptus 
dumosa)  a  shrub  growing  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  in 
height,  and  with  stems  set  so  closely  together 
that  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  force  his  way  be- 
tween them.  The  clearing  of  this  land  is  accom- 
plished by  hitching  teams  of  bullocks  or  horses  to 
a  large  tree  trunk,  and  dragging  it  over  the 
thickets  after  the  fashion  of  a  roller.  In  this 
way,  the  mallee  is  thrown  down  and  uprooted, 
and  the  cleared  ground  is  roughly  broken  with 
an  agricultural  implement  known  as  a  stump- 
jumping  plough.  Land  that  carries  heavy  timber 
must  be  cleared  by  the  painfully  slow  process  of 
chopping  down  each  tree,  and  then  "  grubbing" 
out  the  stump.  The  fallen  timber  is  burned  in 
order  to  dispose  of  it,  although  much  of  it  is  of 
cqnsiderable  value. 

The  yield  of  the  continent  for  the  season  of 
1902-3  was  twelve  million  bushels  of  wheat,  and 
for  1903-4  sixty  million  bushels,  showing  a  diflfer- 


Farm  and  Factory  147 

ence  great  enough  to  warrant  the  general  state- 
ment that  the  Australian  wheat  grower  is  at  the 
mercy  of  a  very  fickle  climate.  Sometimes  there 
is  so  little  rain  that  the  seed  does  not  even  germi- 
nate, or  having  sprouted  is  parched  or  withered 
without  reaching  maturity.  As  soon  as  the 
winter  rains  have  made  the  soil  soft  enough  for 
the  plough,  the  ground  is  prepared  and  the  seed 
sown,  and  the  crop  is  harvested  at  the  end  of 
spring,  that  is,  before  Christmas  time,  at  the  very 
latest.  Agricultural  machinery  of  all  kinds  is 
extensively  employed,  and  one  harvesting  imple- 
ment frequently  seen  is  the  ' '  stripper, ' '  which 
plucks  the  ears  from  the  crop,  leaving  the  straw 
standing.  The  ashes  obtained  by  burning  off  the 
straw  are  often  the  only  fertilisers  applied  to 
young  ground. 

The  supply  of  agricultural  labourers  varies 
according  to  the  season.  In  a  good  season,  the 
greatest  difiiculty  is  experienced  in  harvesting 
the  crops,  owing  to  the  scarcity  of  labour;  but  in 
a  bad  year,  hundreds  of  swagmen  may  be  found 
walking  from  farm  to  farm  in  search  of  work. 
These  are  not  only  men  who  are  accustomed  to 
work  for  wages,  for  among  them  may  be  found 
numbers  of  small  selectors  whose  own  crops  have 
failed,  and  who  have  bravely  gone  out  upon  the 
track  in  the  hope  of  earning  a  cheque,  and  so 
helping  to  keep  the  little  home  together.  The 
agricultural  labourer  in  steady  employment  earns 
from  fifteen  shillings   to  a  pound   a  week  with 


148  Australian  Life 

board  and  lodging.  There  is  no  act  of  Parliament 
to  regulate  his  hours  of  labour,  which  frequently 
extend  from  early  dawn  till  long  after  suUvSet. 
When  it  is  considered  that  the  climate  is  a  very 
trying  one,  and  that  the  work  includes  milking, 
clearing,  burning  off — a  grimy  and  choking  occu- 
pation— as  well  as  farm  work  of  all  kinds,  the 
conditions  of  his  life  must  be  accounted  sufficiently 
hard.  They  serve  to  account  for  the  presence  in 
the  cities  of  bands  of  unemployed  clamouring  for 
Government  relief  works — with  pay  at  the  rate 
of  seven  shillings  for  the  eight-hour  day,  while 
the  farmers  are  unable  to  obtain  sufficient  labour. 
The  uncertainty  and  irregularity  of  agricultural 
employment — which  I  trust  I  have  sufficiently 
emphasised — and  the  superior  attractions  of  city 
life  must  also  be  considered  when  one  is  seeking 
to  account  for  this  state  of  affairs. 

When  a  few  more  decades  have  passed,  the 
writer  of  such  a  book  as  this  will  probably  find  it 
necessary  to  devote  a  chapter  to  life  on  the  Aus- 
tralian vineyards.  On  the  sunny  slopes  of  the 
warmer  temperate  areas,  the  vignero7i  finds  a  soil 
and  climate  admirably  suited  to  the  production 
of  wine  of  a  very  high  quality.  Among  the 
pioneer  vignerons  were  many  French  and  German 
settlers,  who  have  made  their  picturesque  un- 
Australian  homes  amid  the  most  pleasant  sur- 
roundings to  be  found  in  all  the  continent.  From 
the  broad  vine-covered,  brick-paved  veranda  of 
such  a  house  may  be  obtained  the  pleasing  pro- 


Farm  and  Factory  149 

spect  of  a  green  vineyard,  framed  in  a  setting  of 
dark  bush-clad  hills.  The  vineyard,  with  its  long 
orderly  lines  of  vines,  each  plant  standarded  and 
tied  to  its  own  stake,  is  in  marked  contrast  to  the 
general  air  of  untidiness  that  prevails  in  the  ordin- 
ary bush  settlement.  Its  immediate  effects  are 
the  surprising  quality  and  cheapness  of  table 
grapes  in  the  cities,  and  a  growing  disposition 
among  Australians  to  substitute  wine  of  local 
growth  for  beer  and  spirits,  and  so  to  conform 
further  to  the  climatic  conditions  in  which  they 
live. 

Licenses  for  the  sale  of  Australian  wine  are  not 
costly,  and  the  wineshop  has  long  been  a  feature 
of  the  city  streets.  Unfortunately  for  the  home 
reputation  of  the  Australian  wines,  the  manage- 
ment of  these  establishments  has  too  often  been 
faulty,  and  the  method  of  conducting  business,  as 
well  as  the  quality  of  the  wine  sold,  has  been  a 
cause  of  reproach.  In  this  respect,  amendment 
has  recently  taken  place,  and  it  is  now  possible 
to  obtain  a  glass  of  good  Australian  wine  at  a 
very  moderate  price,  and  to  drink  it  amid  sur- 
roundings holding  nothing  to  offend  the  most 
fastidious  taste.  Some  of  the  heavier  Australian 
wines  have  also  found  their  way  into  England, 
where  a  yearly  increasing  demand  is  found  for 
them.  The  industry  is  better  suited  to  the  Aus- 
tralian climate,  perhaps,  than  the  growth  of  some 
cereals,  and  is  attracting  a  very  intelligent  class 
of  men,  who  receive  the  assistance  of  Government 


I50  Australian  Life 

experts  in  dealing  with  the  peculiarities  of  soil 
and  climate  encountered. 

As  already  hinted,  the  difficulty  of  the  man  on 
the  land  is  not  the  growth,  but  the  disposal  of 
certain  kinds  of  produce.  I  remember  dining  in 
Melbourne  once,  and  enjoying  some  canned  apri- 
cots which  came,  as  I  learned  on  asking,  from 
America.  Three  days  later,  I  was  assisting  to 
destroy  an  orchard  of  apricot  trees  two  acres  in 
extent,  their  owner  having  decided  to  replace 
them  with  orange  and  lemon  trees.  The  trees 
were  in  their  prime,  and  had  never  failed  to  yield 
good  crops  of  first-class  fruit.  But  the  grower, 
who  was  a  practical  man,  had  found  that  they 
afforded  but  an  insignificant  return,  while  an  ad- 
jacent area  under  fruit  trees  of  the  citrus  order 
gave  handsome  profits.  The  reason,  he  declared, 
lay  in  his  distance  from  the  state  capital  and  the 
rapidity  with  which  soft  fruits  spoiled  in  the  hot 
summer.  These  are  difficulties  that  will  be  obvi- 
ated with  the  further  settlement  and  development 
of  the  country,  but  in  the  mean  time,  they  scarcely 
serve  to  explain  why  Australia,  with  its  remark- 
able capacity  for  growing  fruits  of  all  kinds, 
should  be  an  importer  instead  of  an  exporter  of 
dried  and  preserved  fruits. 

This  is  but  one  example  of  many  industries 
that  are  languishing,  although  possessing  possi- 
bilities that  have  been  proved  beyond  any  ques- 
tion. The  future  of  many  of  them — and  especially 
those  of  Northern  Australia — is  inextricably  in- 


Farm  and  Factory  151 

volved  with  the  question  of  coloured  labour, 
against  the  employment  of  which  Australia  has 
definitely  decided,  at  least,  for  the  present.  The 
experiment,  described  in  another  chapter,  of  de- 
porting the  Kanaka  labourers  from  the  sugar 
fields,  and  substituting  white  labourers  in  their 
place,  will  be  watched  with  the  keenest  interest 
throughout  Australia.  Should  it  succeed,  it  will 
be  argued  that  cotton  and  other  products  can  be 
cultivated  without  the  coolie  labour  for  want  of 
which,  according  to  the  advocates  of  coloured 
labour,  these  industries  are  at  present  neglected. 
There  are  other  possibilities,  however,  which 
long  ago  commended  themselves  to  the  notice  of 
Australian  politicians.  The  position  assigned  to 
the  Colonies  in  the  present  scheme  of  the  British 
Empire  would  appear  to  be  that  of  producers  of 
raw  material,  and  consumers  of  the  manufactured 
articles  of  the  Motherland.  Proposals  for  strength- 
ening the  links  of  Empire  on  the  basis  of  trade 
are  founded  on  these  relations,  and,  without  the 
principle  having  been  accepted,  have  encountered 
obstacles  arising  from  the  unwillingness  of  the 
Colonies  to  accept  the  minor  part  thus  assigned  to 
them.  If  the  use  of  the  word  "colony  "  implies 
a  place  entirely  given  up  to  the  primary  indus- 
tries, then  "  Once  a  colony,  always  a  colony"  is 
an  axiom  that  must  not  be  too  readily  accepted. 
If  the  United  States  of  America  were  still  an  in- 
tegral part  of  the  British  Empire,  it  would  hardly 
be  possible  to  refer  to  them  in  their  present  stage 


152  Australian  Life 

of  development  as  "our  American  colonies."  It 
is  quite  certain  that  Australia  looks  forward  to 
the  day  when  certain  of  its  raw  materials,  such  as 
wool  and  leather,  will  be  manufactured  in  Aus- 
tralian factories.  With  this  end  in  view,  quite 
early  in  the  history  of  responsible  government  in 
Australia,  some  of  the  states  began  by  imposing 
customs  duties  designed  to  protect  local  indus- 
tries, and  the  present  Commonwealth  Tariff,  while 
framed  partly  for  revenue  purposes,  is  also  in  some 
measure  a  protective  tariff. 

The  industries  created  and  fostered  in  this 
way  have  had  to  contend  with  difficulties  aris- 
ing from  a  want  of  uniformity  in  the  tariff  of 
the  different  states,  and  from  the  tariff  war 
the  states  waged  against  one  another  before  the 
Federal  era. 

Their  expansion  has  been  more  definitely 
affected  by  the  determination  of  the  Australian 
Labour  party  to  preserve  the  favourable  conditions 
under  which  the  city  worker  exists.  The  in- 
dustrial legislation  of  Australia  is  designed  to 
maintain  high  wages  and  short  hours  of  labour, 
and  under  these  conditions  it  is  possible  that  the 
amount  of  protection  afforded  by  the  present  tariff 
does  not  give  the  manufacturer  sufficient  en- 
couragement. In  any  case,  the  dictum  of  Mr. 
Coghlan,  the  leading  authority  upon  Australian 
statistics,  is  that  "progress  of  the  manufacturing 
industry  in  Australasia  has  been  very  irregular, 
even  in  the  most  advanced  states. ' ' 


Farm  and  Factory  153 

The  broad  principles  of  Australian  industrial 
legislation — for  the  details  vary  in  the  different 
states — 'are  extremely  favourable  to  the  worker. 
Short  hours  are  secured  by  the  provision  of  an 
eight-hour  day  in  workshops  and  factories,  and 
by  Acts  insisting  on  the  early  closing  of  shops, 
and  the  observance  of  a  weekly  half-holiday. 
The  rate  of  wages  is  maintained  either  by  a 
Factories  Act,  which  provides  for  the  establish- 
ment of  Boards  to  fix  a  minimum  wage  for  each 
class  of  labour,  or  of  Arbitration  and  Conciliation 
Acts,  designed  to  settle  disputes  between  Capital 
and  Labour.  An  instance  of  the  working  of  the 
Arbitration  Act  in  force  in  New  South  Wales  may 
be  of  interest.  The  men  engaged  in  the  coal 
mines  at  Newcastle  and  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
that  city,  some  four  thousand  in  number,  had  a 
difference  with  the  mine-owners  on  the  subject  of 
the  rates  for  hewing  coal.  By  common  consent, 
the  dispute  was  referred  to  the  Arbitration  Court, 
and,  in  this  case,  the  decision  of  the  Court  was 
favourable  to  the  masters  rather  than  the  men. 
Most  of  the  men  went  on  with  their  work  without 
interruption,  but  in  one  mine,  it  was  decided  to 
defy  the  Court  and  cease  work.  The  mine-owner 
then  appealed  to  the  Court  to  enforce  its  decision, 
and  found  that  it  was  powerless  to  do  so,  although 
the  owner  might  have  been  heavily  fined  had  he 
refused  to  obey  the  ruling  given.  Proceedings 
to  punish  the  men  were  then  taken  in  another 
Court,  but  in  the  meantime,  chilled  by  the  open 


154  Australian  Life 

disapproval  of  their  fellows  elsewhere,  they  re- 
treated from  their  position  and  resumed  work. 

These  Arbitration  courts  are  gradually  estab- 
lishing definite  rates  of  pay  in  most  employments, 
and  further  legislation  provides  that  these  rates 
shall  not  be  lowered  by  the  introduction  of  cheaper- 
labour  from  outside.  The  Immigration  Act  of 
the  Commonwealth  Parliament,  for  instance,  pro- 
vides for  the  exclusion  of  coloured  labour,  and  of 
contract  labourers  as  well.  Attention  was  drawn 
to  this  by  the  notorious  case  of  six  hatters,  who 
were  subjected  to  the  interrogation  of  the  authori- 
ties before  being  allowed  to  enter  Australia.  It 
was  made  clear  at  the  time  that  it  was  possible 
for  white  British  subjects  to  be  excluded  from  the 
Commonwealth  if  they  entered  into  a  contract 
with  their  employers  before  reaching  Australia, 
and  the  fact  was  eagerly  seized  and  used  as  a 
basis  of  attack  upon  the  Government  respon- 
sible for  such  legislation.  The  wrongs  of  the 
six  hatters  were  discussed  in  both  the  English 
and  the  Australian  Press,  and  inspired  many  a 
spirited  Opposition  assault  in  the  Commonwealth 
Parliament. 

Meanwhile,  the  six  hatters  themselves  had 
settled  down  comfortably  in  Sydney,  and  proved 
in  due  time  that,  once  having  obtained  admission 
into  Australia,  they  were  fully  contented  with  its 
industrial  legislation. 

The  occasion  occurred  at  the  general  election 
of  1903,  when  Mr.  G.  R.  Reid,  the  Opposition 


Farm  and  Factory  155 

leader,  contested  the  seat  of  East  Sydney.  Mr. 
Reid  had  made  full  use  of  the  six-hatters  episode 
throughout  the  session  of  Parliament,  and  by  a 
curious  coincidence  found  the  six  dwelling  in  his 
own  constituency.  Moreover,  they  were  all  on 
the  committee  of  the  lyabour  candidate  who  op- 
posed Mr.  Reid,  and  who  was  heart  and  soul  in 
fav^our  of  the  legislation  by  which  they  might 
easily  have  been  excluded  from  Australia.  This 
conclusion  to  a  much  discussed  episode  is  re- 
counted as  aflfording  proof  of  the  one  certain  result 
of  the  experimental  legislation  now  on  its  trial  in 
Australia.  The  workman,  at  any  rate,  is  reason- 
ably' contented  with  it,  as,  indeed,  he  has  every 
reason  to  be. 

It  is  never  safe,  however,  to  argue  a  priori  about 
Australian  affairs.  The  statistician  who  predicted 
an  Australian  population  of  5,678,000  for  the  year 
1 90 1  had  no  prevision  of  the  ten  years  of  stagna- 
tion that  almost  immediately  followed  his  pro- 
phecy. The  return  of  normal  and  favourable 
climatic  conditions  will  afford  the  observer  a  bet- 
ter chance  of  determining  whether  the  country  can 
support  manufactures  hampered,  as  far  as  outside 
competition  is  concerned,  by  industrial  legislation 
so  favourable  to  the  workers. 

A  more  immediate  issue  may  be  found  in  the 
policy  now  being  initiated  by  the  Government,  of 
attracting  population  to  the  vacant  lands  of  Aus- 
tralia. This  policy  implies  the  throwing  open  of 
areas   of  land   suitable,    by   reason   of  soil   and 


156  Australian  Life 

climate,  for  immediate  settlement,  the  opening  up 
of  fresh  markets  for  Australian  produce  in  other 
parts  of  the  Empire  and  in  foreign  countries,  and 
a  larger  measure  of  encouragement  to  the  man 
upon  the  land.  It  further  implies  the  construc- 
tion of  railways  designed,  not  for  the  benefit  of  one 
capital  city,  but  for  the  utmost  development  of  the 
districts  through  which  the}'  pass;  it  involves  the 
conservation  of  the  invaluable  water  that  now 
runs  to  waste;  and  it  points  to  the  stern  discour- 
agement of  the  professional  unemployed  of  the 
Australian  cities.  It  reads  like  a  broad  national 
policy,  born  of  recognition  of  errors  in  the  past, 
and  consistent  with  the  national  ideals  of  which 
so  much  was  heard  during  the  first  few  days  of 
the  present  century.  It  is  a  case  of  farm  versus 
factory,  and  the  present  trend  of  Australian  opin- 
ion seems  to  be  strongly  in  favour  of  farm  first, 
and  factory  afterwards. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


THE   AUSTRALIAN  WOMAN 


THE  ups  and  downs  of  Australian  life  have 
forced  upon  the  Australian  woman  very 
many  different  parts  in  life.  Fifty  years  ago, 
upon  the  goldfields  at  least,  woman  occupied  the 
position  which  Mr,  Bret  Harte  has  so  aptly  pic- 
tured in  his  stores  of  the  Pacific  Slope.  The  few 
women  upon  the  goldfields  were  made  the  objects 
of  a  chivalrous  admiration  that  was  not  without 
its  humorous  side.  I  have  often  heard  a  lady — 
she  is  a  very  old  lady  now — describe  her  first  ap- 
pearance in  one  of  the  more  prosperous  mining 
camps.  As  she  walked  from  the  coach  to  her 
husband's  tent,  her  uplifted  skirts  displaying  a 
stout  pair  of  Wellington  boots  prudently  worn  as 
some  protection  against  the  slough  of  mud  and 
clay  through  which  she  had  to  struggle,  the  camp 
resounded  with  cries  of  "Jo,  Jo,"  and  ten  thou- 
sand jolly  miners  threw  down  picks  and  dishes 
to  gaze  at  the  novel  sight  of  a  woman.  For 
months,  she  was  the  heroine  of  that  out  of  the 
way  camp,  the  miners  resorting  to  all  sorts  of 
novel  expedients  to  procure  her  some  delicacy 
157 


158  Australian  Life 

or  comfort,  which  was  tactfully  offered  as  a  tribute 
to  her  femininity.  The  ideals  of  those  good  days 
are  fortunately  not  dead,  but  the  conditions  of 
Australian  life  are  variable  in  the  extreme,  and 
the  position  of  woman  in  the  Australian  cosmos 
has  varied  with  them.  In  the  flood-tide  of  pro- 
sperity, the  Australian  showed  a  tendency  to  treat 
his  womankind  as  the  American  is  said  to  treat 
his:  to  isolate  them  from  every  care  of  business 
and  even  of  household  management.  The  Aus- 
tralian woman  had  good  times  then,  but  not  at 
the  expense  of  her  home  life,  and  she  showed  in 
the  crash  that  followed  that  she  possessed  the  re- 
sourcefulness and  courage  which  is  a  mark  of 
Australian  character.  Australians  have  good 
reason  to  be  proud  of  the  manner  in  which  many 
of  their  women,  born  and  educated  amidst  sur- 
roundings of  comfort  and  luxury,  set  to  work  at 
a  moment's  notice,  when,  by  an  unexpected  turn 
of  fortune's  wheel,  their  fathers  and  husbands 
were  stripped  of  their  wealth,  and  hampered  by 
a  very  general  business  depression  throughout 
Australia. 

Visitors  to  Australia  have  been  unanimous  in 
recording  the  marked  difference  in  type  of  the 
Australian  woman,  for  she  has  adapted  herself 
more  readily  to  the  changed  conditions  of  life  and 
climate  than  the  Australian  man.  Her  dress, 
although  following  the  standard  of  fashion  im- 
posed upon  her  by  Parisian  and  lyondon  authority, 
is  modified  so  as  to  suit  the  bright  light  and 


The  Australian  Woman       159 

cloudless  blue  skies  of  her  surroundings.  No- 
thing is  more  charming  on  an  Australian  holiday 
than  the  cheerful  effect  of  the  bright  but  cool  and 
appropriate  dresses  of  the  daughters  of  the  people. 
In  the  clear  sunlight  and  against  the  sombre 
foliage  of  the  trees  and  shrubs,  it  becomes  at  once 
apparent  that  the  genius  of  the  Australian  woman 
has  solved  the  question  of  dress,  while  the  halting 
instinct  of  man  is  only  beginning  to  rebel  against 
the  conventions  imposed  upon  him  by  his  Old 
World  ancestors.  The  same  genius  is  shown  by 
the  woman  in  the  management  of  her  house; 
if  allowed  her  own  way,  the  furnishings  are  de- 
signed for  coolness  and  airiness,  no  trouble  is 
spared  during  the  glaring  da^^time  to  expel  the 
light  and  the  flies,  and  her  own  regimen  of  diet 
is  rapidly  approaching  that  which  is  natural  and 
healthful  in  such  a  climate.  It  is  the  Australian 
custom  that  pleasure  shall  mainly  be  taken  out  of 
doors,  and  to  this  rule,  the  Australian  woman  has 
not  been  slow  to  conform.  But  there  has  never 
been  any  craze  for  undue  athleticism  among  the 
Australian  girls,  many  of  whom  learn  to  swim 
and  to  ride  as  a  matter  of  course,  leaving  the  more 
competitive  pastimes  to  their  brothers.  It  is  true 
that  there  have  been  teams  of  lady  cricketers,  who 
enlivened  the  rather  dull  life  of  their  rival  country 
townships  by  matches  which  attracted  consider- 
able attention.  The  fact  that  the  attention  was 
attracted  proves  that  the  incident  was  a  rare  one, 
and  up  to  the  present,  the  Australian  girl  has 


i6o  Australian  Life 

been  content  with  those  pastimes,  such  as  tennis 
and  golf,  which  have  always  been  considered 
womanly.  But  she  revels  in  the  less  active  open 
air  entertainment  provided  by  picnics,  garden 
parties,  boating  excursions,  and  open-air  concerts, 
and  the  frequency  of  these  gives  to  her  intercourse 
with  the  other  sex  a  frankness  and  freedom  from 
restraint  which  is  one  of  her  special  charms.  The 
camaraderie  between  the  sexes,  and  the  free  use 
of  Christian  names,  is  at  first  disconcerting  to  the 
new  arrival,  who  may  be  apt  to  misconstrue  the 
free-and-easiness  of  the  Australian  girl  and  to  be 
snubbed  accordingly. 

Among  the  troubles  of  the  household  life  in 
Australia,  the  servant  difficulty  is  not  the  least, 
and  this  presses  most  heavily  upon  the  woman. 
The  best  servants  obtainable  are  those  from  the 
bush,  who,  although  rough  diamonds  at  the  out- 
set, have  the  qualities  of  diligence,  quickness,  and 
extreme  good  nature.  They  have  also  the  Aus- 
tralian characteristic  of  independence  in  a  marked 
degree,  and  the  national  love  of  holiday-making 
and  of  celebrating  anniversaries.  Every  house- 
wife in  Australia  is  familiar  with  the  sinking 
sensation  experienced  on  learning  that  ' '  her  treas- 
ure," carefull}'-  trained  through  twelve  months 
of  awkwardness  or  ignorance  to  something  like 
aptitude,  intends  to  take  a  holiday  from  Christ- 
mas Eve  to  New  Year's  Day.  Remonstrance  is 
useless.  "  My  mother  wants  me  at  home,"  is 
the  only  explanation  vouchsafed  of  this  base  de- 


The  Australian  Woman       i6i 

sertion,  and  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  submit. 
The  best  way  out  of  the  difficulty  is  that  fre- 
quently followed  in  Australia.  The  Christmas 
season  is  chosen  for  the  annual  holiday  to  the  sea- 
side or  into  the  country,  and  the  home  is  locked 
up  for  the  occasion.  Thus  Mary  Jane  is  allowed 
to  enjoy  her  Christmas  at  home,  and  repays  by  a 
patient  and  good-tempered  service  and  a  willing- 
ness for  work  of  all  kinds  which  could  not  be  de- 
manded from  the  highly-trained  British  domestic. 

The  critics  of  the  Australian  woman — and  there 
have  been  many — have  complained  that  she  both 
walks  and  talks  badly.  For  the  first  charge, 
there  would  seem  to  be  less  foundation  than  for 
the  second;  for,  although  the  ordinary  observer 
would  fail  to  notice  any  lack  of  grace  in  the  car- 
riage of  the  women  in  the  cities,  the  presence  of 
an  accent  is  too  obvious  to  be  overlooked.  The 
theory  that  the  hardening  and  distorting  of  vowel 
sounds  so  common  in  Australia  can  be  traced  to 
the  State  schools  has  been  advanced.  Those  who 
support  this  contention  point  to  the  large  classes 
common  in  these  establishments,  and  to  the 
monotonous  repetitions  in  chorus  that  constitute 
part  of  the  system  of  teaching.  If  this  theory  be 
a  correct  one,  the  system  cannot  be  amended  too 
quickly,  for  the  accent  itself  is  a  sad  drawback  to 
the  pleasure  afforded  by  the  clear  and  musical 
voice  that  is  a  characteristic  of  the  Australian 
woman. 

A  more  serious  matter  is  the  decline  of  the 


1 62  Australian  Life 

Australian  birth-rate,  noticeable  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century,  pointing  as  it  does 
to  a  corresponding  decline  in  the  physical  or  moral 
fibre  of  the  Australian  woman.  Mr.  Coghlan,  the 
statistician  whose  paper  upon  the  subject  first 
called  public  attention  to  this  development  of 
Australian  life,  decided  as  a  result  of  his  early  in- 
vestigations that  Australian-born  women  do  not 
bear  so  many  children  as  the  European  women 
who  emigrate  to  Australia.  Fuller  inquiry,  how- 
ever, convinced  him  that  in  this  conclusion  he 
had  been  mistaken.  The  decline  of  the  birth-rate 
is  more  intimately  connected  with  the  rapid 
growth  of  the  capital  cities,  where  the  conditions 
of  life  approximate  more  closely  to  those  of  the 
Old  World.  Mr.  Coghlan' s  carefully  reasoned 
paper  upon  the  subject  has  resulted  in  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  commission,  empowered  to  inquire 
fully  into  all  the  circumstances  afiecting  this 
phase  of  Australian  life. 

Among  the  most  prominent  characteristics  of 
the  Australian  woman  is  her  talent  for  music, 
amounting  in  many  instances  to  positive  genius. 
This  statement  is  not  made  merely  because  Aus- 
tralia has  given  to  the  world  singers  who,  like 
Madame  Melba,  unite  the  highest  artistic  instinct 
with  the  most  remarkable  natural  gifts,  and  have 
so  become  famous.  It  is  rather  because,  go  where 
you  will  in  Australia,  you  will  hear  good  voices, 
used  with  instinctive  art,  and  instruments  played, 
even  where  skilled  instruction  is  lacking,  with 


The  Australian  Woman       163 

sympathetic  and  j  ust  perception  of  the  meaning 
of  the  music.  From  the  singing  of  the  church 
choir  in  the  little  back  blocks  township  to  the 
concert  given  by  the  pupils  of  the  musical  con- 
servatorium  of  the  capital,  there  is  everywhere 
abundant  evidence  that  Australians  have  not  only 
a  true  love  for  music,  but  the  gift  of  musical  ex- 
pression. The  eagerness  in  grasping  any  means 
of  improved  cultivation  and  knowledge  is  proof  of 
this,  as  well  as  the  enthusiasm  with  which  skilled 
performers  are  welcomed  and  heard.  Music  is 
the  one  art  that  has  received  genuine  and  notable 
encouragement  in  Australia. 

The  Australian  woman  who  earns  her  own  liv- 
ing has  had  to  encounter  less  prejudice  and  oppo- 
sition than  has  been  the  case  elsewhere.  In  the 
professional  class,  women  have  come  rapidly  to 
the  front,  and  women  doctors,  dentists,  and  lec- 
turers are  matters  of  everyday  existence,  being 
accepted  as  readily  as  their  male  counterparts. 
One  Australian  capital  possesses  a  lady,  who, 
having  developed  marked  business  ability  as  a 
house  and  land  agent,  applied  for  and  obtained 
an  auctioneer's  license.  Her  sales  are  conducted 
with  a  promptness  and  readiness  of  which  any 
male  auctioneer  might  well  be  proud,  and  her 
repartees  to  interrupters  at  the  outset  of  her  career 
were  peculiarly  crushing.  In  the  financial  crisis 
following  the  period  of  over-speculation  in  land 
there  were  many  examples  of  young  ladies  who 
devised  novel  and  useful  methods  of  replacing 


1 64  Australian  Life 

vanished  incomes.  One  result  of  that  episode  in 
Australian  history  is  the  air  of  pleasant  refinement 
that  distinguishes  the  Australian  tea-room  from 
similar  establishments  elsewhere.  The  condition 
of  the  working-women  of  the  poorer  classes,  un- 
fortunately, leaves  much  to  be  desired.  In  somer 
employments,  they  have  reaped  the  benefits  of  the 
organisation  and  political  power  wielded  by  men, 
but  in  other  of  the  avocations  peculiar  to  the 
working-woman  alone,  their  position  is  not  as 
advanced  as  that  of  the  Australian  worker  gen- 
erally. The  sweater  exists  in  Australia  as  else- 
where, and  finds  his  victims,  as  elsewhere,  among 
those  who  are  poorest  and  least  able  to  protect 
themselves. 

This  state  of  afiairs  may  possibly  be  remedied 
by  the  exercise  of  the  franchise  now  conferred 
upon  the  Australian  woman.  The  woman  voter 
is,  of  course,  no  new  thing  in  Australasia,  for 
both  in  New  Zealand  and  South  Australia,  the 
women  have  for  some  years  held  equal  electoral 
privileges  with  the  men.  But  the  granting  of  the 
Commonwealth  franchise  to  the  Australian  wo- 
man was  an  experiment  on  a  much  larger  scale, 
and  has  resulted  in  some  developments  of  a  most 
interesting  nature.  It  has  been  found  that  the 
women  voters  outnumbered  the  men  in  the  Com- 
monwealth, although  the  majority  of  women  is 
not  a  very  large  one.  The  woman's  vote  is, 
therefore,  a  very  important  consideration  for  the 
politician,  who  is  alive  to  the  experience  already 


The  Australian  Woman       165 

gained  of  its  effect  in  New  Zealand.  In  that 
Colony,  it  has  been  found  that  the  one  political 
question  of  absorbing  interest  to  the  feminine 
mind  is  the  regulation  and  control  of  the  traflSc  in 
intoxicating  liquors.  It  is  significant  that  with 
the  approach  of  the  first  general  election  at  which 
the  woman's  franchise  was  exercised,  those  inter- 
ested in  this  trade  formed  associations  designed 
for  meeting  the  would-be  reformers  halfway,  and 
for  improving  the  conditions  under  which  intoxi- 
cants are  sold  in  Australia. 

The  franchise  itself  was  received  by  the  women 
with  a  due  sense  of  the  importance  of  the  gift. 
The  more  advanced  formed  political  associations, 
devised  an  election  programme,  and  actually 
nominated  women  candidates  for  positions  in  the 
Australian  Senate.  There  are  also  associations 
of  women  who  hold  that  the  time  for  woman's 
representation  is  not  yet  ripe,  although  taking 
an  active  and  intelligent  interest  in  the  current 
political  topics.  Frequent  meetings  were  organ- 
ised, at  which  addresses  of  an  explanatory  nature 
were  delivered  by  Australian  public  men,  with 
the  view  of  educating  their  hearers  upon  the  un- 
familiar topic  of  politics.  Three  women  allowed 
themselves  to  be  nominated  for  seats  in  the  Aus- 
tralian Senate,  but  none  of  them  were  successful, 
the  polling  disclosing  the  curious  fact  that  they 
obtained  more  support  from  male  voters  than  from 
those  of  their  own  sex.  The  result  of  this  first 
election  at  which  woman's  suffrage  was  exercised 


1 66  Australian  Life 

throughout  Australia  afforded  little  justification 
for  the  fears  entertained  by  those  who  opposed 
the  granting  of  woman's  suffrage.  For  the  pres- 
ent, the  Australian  woman  is  content  to  be  guided 
in  the  main  by  the  political  opinions  of  her  hus- 
band or  brother. 

It  is  one  of  the  accepted  doctrines  of  the  Aus- 
tralian bushman  that  "  the  bush  is  no  place  for  a 
woman,"  but  it  frequently  happens  that  the  same 
bushman  marries  and  settles  down  to  make  a 
home  in  the  bush.  The  settler's  life  presses  more 
hardly  upon  the  woman  than  the  man,  with  the 
result  that  the  first  impression  gained  of  the  wo- 
men of  the  bush  is  one  of  sallow  complexions  de- 
prived of  all  their  freshness  by  the  burning  sun, 
and  of  worn  faces  marked  with  premature  lines 
by  care  and  waiting.  More  lasting,  however,  is 
the  remembrance  of  their  simple  goodwill  and 
kindly  hospitality  to  strangers,  their  mutual  help- 
fulness at  all  times,  and  their  courage  and  re- 
sourcefulness in  the  desperate  expedients  to  which 
they  are  sometimes  turned  by  the  loneliness  and 
isolation  of  bush  life.  Every  little  settlement  has 
its  tale  of  woman's  heroism,  told,  and  then  quite 
as  a  matter  of  course,  only  in  response  to  the  most 
persistent  questioning.  The  story  of  the  woman 
who  maintains  and  keeps  together  the  little  bush 
home  when  necessity  forces  the  man  to  seek  em- 
ployment somewhere  in  the  wide  emptiness  of 
pastoral  Australia,  is  but  an  everyday  incident, 
for  there  is  no  finer  thing  in  all  Australia  than 


The  Australian  Woman       167 

the  noble,  self-denying  lives  of  many  of  these 
bush  women. 

The  bush  aflfords  many  instances  of  women 
who,  under  stress  of  circumstances,  have  played 
strange  parts  in  life.  There  are  authenticated 
accounts  of  women  tramping  the  country  in  men's 
attire,  carrying  their  swags  and  turning  their 
hands  to  all  the  varied  employments  required  of 
the  handy-man  of  the  bush.  It  is  not  many  years 
ago  since  there  died  a  woman  known  on  the  Aus- 
tralian roads  as  "  Bullocky  Mary."  In  short 
skirts  and  heavy  boots,  with  a  man's  felt  hat 
upon  her  head,  this  Amazon  used  to  drive  her 
team  of  bullocks  through  the  country,  lashing 
them  with  her  long  whip  and  a  vocabulary  of 
the  most  effective  description.  The  spectacle  of 
husband  and  wife  mining  together  is  by  no  means 
an  uncommon  one,  the  man  working  below  in  the 
mine,  while  the  woman  turns  the  windlass  which 
lifts  the  debris  from  the  shaft.  Australian  race- 
courses have  known  at  least  one  woman  who 
trained  her  own  race-horse,  and  more  than  one 
woman  who  plied  the  calling  of  a  book-maker. 

This  aspect  of  feminine  life  is  fortunately  grow- 
ing more  uncommon  as  time  goes  on,  and  it  is 
easily  possible  to  discern  the  true  place  of  the 
Australian  woman  by  looking  in  exactly  the 
opposite  direction.  The  proportion  of  women 
students  at  the  Australian  universities  is  steadily 
increasing,  and  it  appears  from  the  reports  of 
these  institutions,  that  woman  is  less  apt  than 


1 68 


Australian  Life 


man  to  regard  the  higher  education  as  merely  a 
means  to  an  end.  Many  of  the  women's  clubs 
have  a  literary  and  an  artistic  basis,  and  it  seems 
very  probable  that  the  Australian  woman  will 
play  an  important  part  in  preserving  the  race 
from  the  commercialism  which  is  at  present  so 
noticeable  among  the  men  of  the  cities. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


HOME  AND  SOCIAI,  LIFE 


THE  complaint  that  the  Australians  are 
abandoning  the  pleasant  home  life  of  their 
fathers  is  not  unfrequently  heard  from  the  older 
generation  in  Australia,  and  especially  from 
those  of  British  birth.  The  rigorous  British 
winter,  that  casts  a  halo  of  attraction  around  the 
family  circle  gathered  about  the  fireside,  has  no 
place  in  the  experience  of  young  Australia.  In- 
clination conduces  to  less  time  being  spent  in- 
doors and  more  in  the  open  air.  For  the  greater 
part  of  the  year,  the  beaches,  parks,  and  streets 
of  the  cities  are  thronged  in  the  evenings  with 
promenaders,  chatting  and  laughing  gaily  in  the 
enjoyment  of  the  pleasant  coolness  that  comes 
after  sunset.  It  may  be  possible  that  the  in- 
timacy of  family  life  is  weakened  by  this  devo- 
tion to  outdoor  recreation,  but  it  is  not  easy  to 
discern  any  marked  difference  between  the  home 
life  of  the  Australians  of  the  cities  and  that  of 
people  in  a  similar  sphere  of  life  in  Great  Britain. 
In  the  bush,  however,  the  absence  of  any 
attempt  to  make  home  attractive  is  readily 
169 


170  Australian  Life 

noticeable.  The  primitive  discomfort  that  was 
unavoidable  during  the  early  pioneer  work  of  the 
settler,  often  clings  to  his  habitation  when  the 
necessity  for  it  has  ceased  to  exist.  The  endur- 
ance of  inconveniences  and  makeshifts  becomes  a 
habit,  and  money  that  might  well  be  spent  on 
home  comforts  and  necessities  is  laid  out  on  im- 
provements to  the  land,  or  saved  against  the  bad 
times  for  which  the  people  of  the  bush  are  pre- 
pared by  the  uncertain  conditions  of  their  life. 
Brought  up  amid  these  surroundings,  the 
younger  generation  has  learned  the  lesson  of 
doing  without  things,  and  perpetuated  the  cus- 
tom. The  unloveliness  of  the  bush  house,  its 
unfinished  aspect,  and  its  want  of  any  homelike 
appearance  are  only  too  noticeable.  The  crowded 
capital  cities  are  a  standing  proof  of  the  distaste 
of  the  people  for  life  on  the  land,  and  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  at  present  it  is  rendered  more 
unattractive  for  the  younger  folk  by  the  extent  to 
which  comfort  and  convenience  are  subordinated. 
As  a  rule,  the  Australian  is  content  with  three 
meals  a  day,  and  has  meat  at  every  meal.  The 
working-man  will  breakfast  on  chops  or  steak, 
and  at  midday,  if  unable  to  go  home,  may 
patronise  a  restaurant,  where  a  plentiful  dinner 
costs  him  sixpence.  At  six  o'clock,  he  has  a 
substantial  tea,  with  cold  or  hot  meat,  and  very 
wisely  dispenses  with  supper.  At  every  meal, 
he  probably  drinks  two  or  three  large  cups  of 
tea,    and    appears   little  worse   for  it.      lyondoa 


Home  and  Social  Life        171 

clerks  and  employees  in  business  houses  usually 
take  a  cup  of  tea  between  four  and  five  in  the  after- 
noon, and  supper  in  the  evening.  In  Australia, 
city  workers  lunch  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  and 
are  able  to  reach  their  homes  in  time  for  a  dinner 
at  six  o'clock,  so  that  they  have  little  time  or 
inclination  for  the  afternoon  break.  The  pro- 
fessional and  upper  middle  classes  dine  a  little 
later,  as  a  rule,  and  the  cup  of  afternoon  tea  may 
or  may  not  be  taken;  but,  in  Australia,  afternoon 
tea  is  recognised  as  more  exclusively  a  feminine 
privilege. 

The  large  amount  of  meat  eaten  by  the  Aus- 
tralians is  due,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the  cheap- 
ness of  that  commodity.  Statistics  are  rarely 
interesting,  but  it  is  surprising  to  learn  that  each 
Australian  consumes  two  hundred  and  sixty-four 
pounds  of  meat  annually,  as  against  one  hundred 
and  nine  pounds  eaten  by  the  average  Briton,  and 
seventy-seven  pounds  by  the  Frenchman.  Dur- 
ing recent  5^ears,  however,  there  is  a  noticeable 
tendenc)^  among  Australians  to  eat  less  meat,  and 
more  of  the  abundant  fresh  fruit.  Most  Aus- 
tralian doctors  advise  a  breakfast  of  fruit,  followed 
by  toast  and  coffee,  in  the  place  of  the  meat  and 
tea  of  the  old  Australian  regime,  as  being  more  in 
keeping  with  the  Australian  climate.  In  the 
cities,  this  advice  begins  to  be  followed,  but  the 
bush  remains  faithful  to  the  fried  chops  and 
steaks  which  have  always  constituted  its  staple 
fare.     The  monotony  of  this  meat  diet  cannot 


172  Australian  Life 

fail  to  impress  itself  upon  any  one  who  has  been 
called  upon  to  endure  it  for  long,  and  is  all  the 
more  remarkable  because  so  many  circumstances 
exist  in  Australia  favourable  to  its  inexpensive 
variation. 

If  blazing  fires  and  draught-proofrooms  are  not 
essential  to  the  comfort  of  the  Australian  home, 
it  is  at  least  necessary  to  resort  to  expedients  to 
counteract  the  effect  of  the  burning  summer  suns. 
Many  Australian  houses  have  their  roofs  coated 
with  white  paint,  because  that  colour  attracts  the 
rays  of  the  sunlight  least  readily,  and  are 
screened  on  all  sides  with  thick  roller  blinds 
made  of  strips  of  bamboo.  Devices  for  excluding 
dust  and  flies,  while  admitting  the  cool  evening 
air,  are  generally  used,  and  in  the  middle  and 
northern  parts  of  Australia,  beds  are  customarily 
furnished  with  mosquito  nettings.  In  a  well- 
appointed  Australian  house,  an  ice-chest  is  a 
necessity  rather  than  a  luxury,  for  in  this  way 
only  can  the  drinking  water  be  kept  cool  and  the 
butter  set  upon  the  table  in  a  state  of  solidity. 
The  ice-cart  goes  from  door  to  door  as  regularly 
as  the  milk-cart,  throughout  almost  the  whole  of 
the  year.  Finally,  the  Australian  of  the  cities 
does  not  consider  a  house  fit  for  human  habitation 
unless  it  contains  a  bathroom  and  shower-bath, 
and  this  statement  holds  good  with  every  class  of 
Australian  society. 

With  these  modifications,  the  Australian  con- 
tinues to  cherish  the  home   ideals  just  as  the 


Home  and  Social  Life        173 

Briton  does  his.  It  is  an  airier  home,  not  so 
crowded  with  cherished  pieces  of  furniture,  and 
not  regarded  so  much  as  a  refuge  from  the 
rigours  of  the  world  outside.  It  is  a  home  of 
open  doors  and  windows,  with  a  wide  veranda, 
where  indoor  life  meets  the  open  air  existence  on 
terms  of  happy  compromise.  By  imperceptible 
degrees,  the  Australian  home  is  adjusting  itself 
to  the  Australian  climate. 

The  belief  in  the  absence  of  class  distinctions 
in  Australia  is  cherished  by  the  masses  in  the  face 
of  an  existing  class.  But  the  man  who  rises 
from  the  masses  is  quickly  made  aware  of  an 
exclusive  circle  of  people  "  in  society,"  and  of  the 
efforts  made  to  reserve  such  privileges  as  this 
circle  may  enjoy.  Australian  society  and  the 
struggle  made  to  maintain  class  distinctions  have 
furnished  the  theme  for  many  satires.  It  is,  in- 
deed, easier  to  ridicule  than  to  adequately  describe 
the  basis  of  Australian  society.  Let  it  be  pre- 
mised that  the  most  important,  if  not  the  most 
exclusive,  social  entertainments  are  those  offered 
by  the  Australian  Governors  in  their  capacity  as 
representatives  of  the  Crown.  At  such  entertain- 
ments, the  most  prominent  people  are  those  who 
have  made  their  way  to  the  front  in  politics,  pro- 
fessional life,  commerce,  or  pastoral  pursuits. 
Many  of  them,  by  their  education  and  upbring- 
ing, or  by  their  natural  qualities,  are  well  fitted 
to  adorn  any  society,  but  there  are  some  of  whom 
it  may  be  said,  without  any  unkindness,    that 


174  Australian  Life 

they  are  quite  at  their  worst  in  the  atmosphere  of 
the  court  and  ballroom. 

The  social  duties  of  an  Australian  Governor 
are  obviously  of  a  very  exacting  nature,  since  in 
his  hands  is  placed  the  task  of  reconciling  the 
claims  of  so  many  social  aspirants,  and  of  keep- 
ing Government  House  free  from  the  invasions  of 
enterprising  people  whom  those  already  within 
the  pale  would  consider  impossible.  The  newly 
arrived  Governor  accordingly  provides  a  book  in 
which  callers  may  write  their  names  and  ad- 
dresses, and  from  this  book  is  compiled  the  list 
of  those  who  are  subsequently  entertained  by  the 
vice-royalty.  I  do  not  profess  any  ability  to 
indicate  the  lines  upon  which  the  selection  is 
made,  but  it  is  no  secret  that  the  path  of  the 
Australian  Governor  who  has  not  a  well-posted 
secretary  and  a  staff  of  tactful  aide-de-camps  is  by 
no  means  a  pleasant  one.  These  Government 
House  entertainments  are  interesting.  The  cen- 
tral figure  is  that  of  a  tactful  and  courteous 
gentleman,  who,  with  the  assistance  of  an  alto- 
gether charming  wife,  and  a  band  of  bored- 
looking  aides,  is  cordially  receiving  an  immense 
number  of  guests,  some  of  whom  regard  his  hos- 
pitality as  a  right.  As  they  arrive,  the  guests 
fall  naturally  into  sets:  the  political  set,  includ- 
ing a  number  of  the  higher  officials;  the  land- 
owning set,  descended  from  the  Australian 
wool-kings ;  the  professional  and  military  set, 
including  many  worthy  gentlemen  in  expensive 


Home  and  Social  Life        175 

military  uniforms;  the  newly  moneyed  set,  cast- 
ing a  suspicious  eye  upon  the  latest  recruits  to 
their  ranks.  There  is,  in  addition,  a  large  num- 
ber of  pleasant  people  who  have  come  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  enjoying  themselves,  and  set  about 
doing  so  very  naturally  and  thoroughly. 

There  is,  further,  an  inner  circle  of  Australian 
society,  whose  doings  are  chronicled  with  great 
exactness  and  intimacy  by  the  society  papers. 
For  obvious  reasons,  no  attempt  is  made  at  a 
rigid  definition  of  this  circle  of  "the  very  nicest," 
for  that  would  defeat  the  end  for  which  the 
society  paper  exists.  One  gathers  that  its  ideals 
are  drawn  from  high  life  elsewhere,  and  that  a 
close  acquaintance  is  maintained  with  the  latest 
movements  and  customs  of  the  best  English 
society.  It  may  be  urged,  with  some  truth,  that 
no  better  model  could  be  taken,  but  it  has  re- 
sulted, rather  unfortunately,  in  the  permanent 
transfer  to  England  of  some  of  the  people  and 
much  of  the  money  that  Australia  can  ill  spare. 

There  are,  naturally,  thousands  of  refined  and 
well-bred  people,  for  whom  neither  the  exclu- 
siveness  of  this  circle  of  "the  very  nicest,"  nor 
the  entry  to  Government  House  and  the  social 
cachet  it  is  supposed  to  give,  have  any  special  at- 
traction. To  outline  their  social  life  would  be  but 
to  describe  the  ordinary  existence  of  the  educated 
Anglo-Saxon  middle  class  everywhere.  Formali- 
ties and  conventions  may  be  slightly  modified,  but 
they  are  by  no  means  dispensed  with  entirely. 


176  Australian  Life 

In  this  respect,  the  lot  of  those  in  the  lower 
grades  of  the  oflScial  class,  and  of  the  ordinary 
clerk,  is  perhaps  less  to  be  envied  than  that  of  any 
other  class  in  Australian  society.  The  incidence 
of  the  Australian  protective  tariff,  and  the  high 
scale  of  professional  fees  of  all  kinds,  make  any 
attempt  at  keeping  up  appearance  one  long 
struggle.  The  working-man,  who  is  more 
highly  paid  than  the  clerk  and  the  subordinate 
public  servant,  is  much  better  off,  and,  by  frankly 
disregarding  the  distinctions  these  others  must 
observe,  can  obtain  a  far  greater  share  of  the 
desirable  things  of  Australian  life.  Owing  to 
the  heavy  protective  duty  on  clothing  of  all 
kinds,  the  clerk  and  the  shop-assistant  are,  in 
proportion  to  their  earnings,  the  most  heavily 
taxed  classes  in  the  whole  Australian  com- 
munity, although  the  higher  rates  of  remunera- 
tion obtained  in  other  emploj'ment  do  not  hold  in 
these  occupations. 

As  for  the  working-man,  he  is  little  troubled  by 
social  distinctions  of  any  kind.  His  relations 
with  his  employer  do  not  call  for  any  show  of 
deference,  his  political  representatives  see  that 
his  necessities  shall  not  contribute  too  largely  to 
the  revenue,  and  his  main  concerns  are  family 
affairs,  politics,  and  sports.  His  interest  in  poli- 
tics occasionally  brings  him  into  touch  with  the 
movements  of  "society,"  after  a  fashion  that 
rouses  a  curious  resentment  in  him.  It  will  be 
diflScult  for  any  one  who  has  never  lived  in  Aus- 


Home  and  Social  Life        177 

tralia  to  understand  how  keenly  the  people 
dislike  the  acceptance  by  one  of  their  popular 
politicians  of  the  knighthood  and  decoration 
sometimes  proffered  as  an  honour  by  the  Im- 
perial Government.  The  Australian  politician 
who  refuses  such  honours,  renews  the  trust  of 
the  people  in  himself,  and  incidentally  deprives 
his  wife  of  an  attribute  of  a  mean  value  in  society. 
The  covert  antipathy  that  exists  between  masses 
and  classes  is  illustrated  by  this  society  approval 
of  what  the  people  condemns.  The  reasoned 
objection  to  the  bestowal  of  titles  upon  Aus- 
tralians is  that  it  is  at  once  unnecessary,  and 
anti- Australian,  and  the  most  national  in  spirit 
of  all  Australian  papers  wrote  seriously  of  it  that 
"Australia  took  up  the  Cross  of  the  Order  of  St. 
Michael  and  St.  George  on  its  shoulders  to  march 
towards  the  crucifixion  of  its  national  life."  It 
should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  whole  of  the 
resentment  excited  by  the  bestowal  of  these 
honours  is  directed  against  the  recipient,  and  that 
the  ofifer  of  them  is  recognised  in  the  spirit  in 
which  it  is  made. 

Clubs  in  Australia  are  few,  but,  as  a  rule,  they 
are  very  good.  Each  of  the  capital  cities  possesses 
at  least  one  club  managed  on  lines  as  constitu- 
tionally exclusive  as  any  that  L,ondon  can  boast. 
An  extreme  conservatism  is  one  of  the  products 
of  the  ferment  of  an  ultra  democratic  community, 
and  in  his  club,  the  Australian  Conservative  finds 
a  congenial  atmosphere  free  from  the  Radicalism 


178  Australian  Life 

that  disturbs  him  everywhere  else.  Their  mem- 
bership is  almost  exclusively  confined  to  the 
squatters,  mine  ovi^ners,  and  property  owners, 
who  find  themselves,  by  sheer  force  of  circum- 
stances, in  direct  opposition  to  the  socialistic  spirit 
that  pervades  the  working  classes.  Other  clubs 
are  founded  on  an  artistic  or  literary  basis,  but 
the  average  Australian,  who  cannot  be  considered 
a  club  man  in  the  English  sense  of  the  word,  is 
usually  content  with  his  suburban  club,  with  its 
tennis-lawns,  bowling-greens,  and  modest  card 
and  billiard  rooms.  Throughout  Australia,  the 
sporting  and  recreation  club  flourishes  exceed- 
ingly, but  the  political  club,  so  dear  to  the  British 
tradesman  and  artisan,  is  an  unknown  thing.  Its 
place,  however,  is  more  than  taken  by  such 
organisations  as  the  Australian  Natives'  Associa- 
tion, some  account  of  which  is  given  in  another 
chapter. 

The  social  life  of  the  bush,  based  on  the  general 
foundation  of  comradeship  and  mutual  helpful- 
ness, is  grandly  simple  in  principle.  Men  under- 
take for  one  another  obligations  not  recognised 
in  other  communities,  and  rely  upon  one  another 
in  a  spirit  of  trust  that  is  marvellously  justified. 
By  this  rule  of  the  bush,  the  population  of  a 
whole  district  sets  itself  to  scour  the  country  for 
days  in  search  of  a  lost  child,  and  the  same  rule 
makes  it  possible  for  a  bushman  to  travel  on  foot 
throughout  Australia  without  a  shilling  in  his 
pocket.     Life  in  the  bush  is  hard  and  monoton- 


Home  and  Social  Life        179 

ous,  and  sometimes  breeds  bitter  senseless  feuds 
and  stupid  misunderstandings.  But  in  time  of 
trouble  or  loss,  fancied  slights  and  ancient 
grudges  are  forgotten,  and  the  sufferer  experi- 
ences only  the  full  and  practical  sympathy  of  his 
neighbours.  The  traditional  hospitality  of  Aus- 
tralia is  the  hospitality  of  the  bush,  extended 
without  a  second  thought  to  acquaintance  and 
stranger  alike,  and  accepted  in  the  same  unques- 
tioning spirit.  "I  have  ridden,"  writes  Sir 
Gilbert  Parker,  "to  a  plantation  late  at  night, 
turned  my  horse  into  the  horse  paddock,  entered 
the  house,  struck  a  match,  found  a  sofa,  lain 
down,  and  waked  in  the  morning  to  find  life 
bustling  about  me,  my  breakfast  ready  on  the 
table,  and  I  an  utter  stranger!  .  .  .  They 
appreciated  the  desire  on  my  part  not  to  disturb 
their  rest,  and  they  apologised  for  the  hardness 
of  the  sofa." 

The  social  code  of  the  bush  is  summed  up  by 
Mr.  Henry  Lawson  in  one  brief  sentence:  "Drunk 
or  sober,  mad  or  sane,  good  or  bad,  it  is  n't  bush 
religion  to  desert  a  mate  in  a  hole."  And  among 
all  bushmen  there  is  an  acknowledged  mateship. 

City  and  bush  meet  in  the  country  townships, 
where  neither  shows  to  any  great  advantage.  To 
begin  with,  the  township,  whether  new  or  old,  is 
invariably  unlovely.  A  wide  street  of  strag- 
gling, iron-roofed  houses,  a  hotel  or  two  and  a 
few  stores,  at  least  two  churches  and  a  school, 
each  building  as  monotonously  unsightly  as  its 


i8o  Australian  Life 

neighbours  —  these  are  the  township's  main 
constitutents.  Local  society  consists  of  the  bank 
manager,  doctor,  clergyman,  and  a  few  others, 
with  lower  positions  assigned  to  the  school-teacher 
and  police-constable,  the  latter  usually  a  superior 
man  and  invariably  an  influential  one.  This 
circle  is  regarded  as  consisting  of  city  folk,  and  is 
viewed  with  distrust  and  suspicion  by  the  locals. 
The  feuds  and  scandals  inevitable  in  village  life 
are  embittered  by  this  jarring  of  town  and  bush, 
and  to  the  policeman,  if  he  is  tactful,  falls  the 
task  of  keeping  peace  between  the  parties. 

The  visitor  who  studies  the  life  of  Australia  in 
a  bush  township  can  hardly  escape  the  con- 
clusion that  this  must  be  among  the  least  sober 
of  all  countries  of  the  world.  The  conclusion 
would  be  an  erroneous  one,  as  statistics  will 
prove,  but  there  is  no  doubt  about  the  amount  of 
hard  drinking  that  goes  on  in  the  bush  town- 
ships. There  may  be  seen  the  bushman,  who 
has  not  known  the  taste  of  intoxicating  drink  for 
months,  indulging  in  an  orgy  in  which  he  invites 
all  comers  to  participate.  The  occasional  "bursts" 
of  more  frequent  visitors  to  the  place  are  equally 
obvious,  for  the  little  township  concentrates  the 
drunkenness  of  a  whole  district.  The  moral  fibre 
of  the  young  man  called  upon  to  live  in  such  sur- 
roundings, perhaps  as  bank  clerk,  or  civil  ser- 
vant, must  be  stout,  or  he  will  run  considerable 
danger  of  yielding  to  the  infectious  atmosphere. 
Life  in  the  bush   township  is  supremely  dull, 


Home  and  Social  Life        i8i 

especially  to  a  youngster  who  has  newly  aban- 
doned the  attractions  of  a  big  city,  and  the  one 
spot  less  boresome  than  the  rest  is  the  hotel 
parlour.  It  is  recognised  in  Australia  that  young 
men  who  would  remain  steady  in  other  sur- 
roundings are  apt  to  acquire  intemperate  habits 
during  a  period  of  township  life. 

It  is  not  an  attractive  picture,  although,  unfor- 
tunately, it  has  its  counterpart  in  other  countries. 
Years  go  by  and  bring  little  change  to  the  dull 
hamlet,  with  its  single  dusty  street  and  its  gen- 
eral unfinished  air  of  rusty  untidiness.  The 
railway  comes,  and  the  one  event  of  the  day  is 
the  arrival  of  the  up- train,  just  as  the  one  topic 
of  conversation  is  the  latest  aspect  of  the  peren- 
nial quarrel  between  the  bank  manager  and  the 
publican. 

Dingo  Bill  arrives  from ' '  way  back  ' '  and  paints 
the  place  red,  until  his  career  is  cut  short  by  the 
constable,  after  which  the  doctor  treats  him  for 
delirium  tremens,  and  he  departs,  penniless,  but 
satisfied.  Once  a  year  comes  the  show,  or  the 
sports,  followed  by  drinking,  fighting,  and  a 
general  scene  of  licentiousness  and  disrepute.  It 
is  Australian  life  at  its  worst:  worse  than  the  life 
of  the  big  cities,  and  infinitely  worse  than  the 
brave  struggle  on  the  lonely  selection. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  AUSTRAI^IAN  AT  PLAY 

AS  might  be  expected  from  a  people  which 
allots  eight  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four  to 
recreation,  the  Australians  are  devoted  to  out- 
door sports  of  all  kinds.  The  climate  assures  so 
large  a  proportion  of  fine  days,  the  cities  have 
been  provided  so  liberally  with  playing-grounds, 
and  the  hours  of  labour  are  so  short,  that  it  could 
hardly  be  otherwise.  As  a  result,  the  Australian 
is  sometimes  reproached  with  devoting  too  much 
time  to  play,  though  there  is  something  to  be  said 
in  favour  of  a  national  sentiment  which  regards 
it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  every  young  man 
shall  be  able  to  swim,  to  ride  a  horse,  and  to 
handle  a  gun  or  a  rifle.  The  president  of  an 
Australian  Science  Congress  recently  proposed — 
no  doubt  jocularly — that  research  should  be  in- 
itiated to  the  end  that  the  bacillus  of  sport  might 
be  eradicated  from  the  rising  generation;  but 
Australians  are  not  able  to  forget  that  a  full  recog- 
nition of  their  existence  was  first  obtained  in  the 
Motherland  by  the  success  of  their  bands  of 
cricketers. 

182 


PS'*? 


k  l.'J-  A-.  s*.  '/:  ..- 


';;;? 


The  Australian  at  Play        183 

It  has  been  said  that  when  an  Australian  settle- 
ment is  planted,  the  first  care  of  the  pioneers  is 
to  mark  out  the  site  of  the  cemetery,  the  second 
to  plan  a  race-course.  Horse-racing  in  Australia, 
however,  is  not  the  constant  and  absorbing  pur- 
suit made  of  it  by  its  devotees  in  Great  Britain, 
but  an  an^usement  that  concentrates  public  at- 
tention during  certain  seasons  of  the  year.  For  a 
week,  it  becomes  a  consideration  and  is  made 
a  leading  topic  of  conversation,  and  then  little  is 
heard  of  the  subject  until  another  racing  carnival 
comes  round.  During  the  first  week  in  each 
November,  for  instance,  the  city  of  Melbourne  is 
devoted  to  horse- racing;  for  the  Melbourne  Cup, 
the  most  important  event  in  the  Australian  racing 
calendar,  is  then  decided.  It  is  remarkable  how 
many  gatherings,  necessitating  the  presence  of 
visitors  from  other  states,  are  held  in  Melbourne 
at  that  season.  The  Australian  fleet  of  warships, 
usually  stationed  at  Sydney,  may  invariably  be 
found  in  Port  Philip,  and  from  all  corners  of  the 
continent,  visitors  find  their  way  to  Melbourne 
for  the  great  Australian  reunion.  Bronzed  squat- 
ters from  Queensland,  lean  prospectors  from  the 
sands  of  Western  Australia,  and  traders  who  have 
exhausted  all  the  possibilities  of  the  South  Sea 
Islands,  may  be  seen  renewing  old  acquaintance 
on  the  spacious  lawns  of  the  Flemington  race- 
course. Everybody  is  there,  from  the  Governor- 
General  to  the  newest  music-hall  favourite. 
People    who   would    not   entertain    the   idea   of 


1 84  Australian  Life 

attending  any  other  race  meeting,  find  their  way 
to  the  course  on  Melbourne  Cup  Day.  The  Aus- 
traHan  spring  is  in  its  most  winsome  mood,  and 
as  fashion  has  decreed  that  this  shall  be  the  occa- 
sion when  the  Australian  woman  may  display 
her  most  tasteful  dress  and  most  expensive  hat, 
the  scene  on  the  great  lawn  before  the  grand- 
stand becomes  the  most  brilliant  to  be  witnessed 
in  all  Australia. 

On  a  big  hill  behind  the  grand-stand  are  the 
Australian  workmen  in  their  thousands,  and  the 
hoarse  roar  of  the  bookmakers  in  that  part  of 
the  race-course  is  loud  and  continuous.  Half  a 
crown  admits  to  this  enclosure,  attached  to  which 
is  a  large  paddock  where  wives  and  families  may 
picnic  in  comfort.  Admission  to  the  area  enclosed 
by  the  race-course  itself  is  free,  and  here,  too, 
is  a  dense  crowd,  enjoying  all  the  shows  and 
amusements  usually  seen  at  a  fair.  As  many  as 
a  hundred  thousand  people  have  been  present  on 
the  course  to  see  the  race  for  the  cup,  and  the 
day  is  observed  as  a  public  holiday  in  the  city. 
But  the  interest  in  the  race  is  not  confined  to 
those  upon  the  course.  For  five  shillings,  a 
ticket  may  be  purchased  in  a  cup  lottery,  and  the 
fortunate  drawer  of  the  winning  horse  learns  from 
the  result  of  the  race  that  he  has  suddenly 
stepped  into  a  fortune.  The  promoter  of  these 
lotteries  deducts  ten  per  cent,  of  the  money  pass- 
ing through  his  hand,  amounting  annually  to 
some    hundreds   of  thousands  sterling.     Clerks 


The  Australian  at  Play       185 

and  shop  girls  set  aside  a  small  portion  of  their 
earnings  each  week,  forming  speculative  com- 
panies to  send  regularly  for  tickets  and  divide 
any  winnings  accruing  to  them.  Apart  from 
these  "consultations,"  as  they  are  called,  there 
is  a  great  deal  of  betting  upon  the  result  of  the 
race,  which  usually  attracts  a  field  of  about  thirty 
of  the  finest  horses  in  Australia. 

When  this  field  of  horses  faces  the  barrier  of 
the  starting-gate,  there  is  a  sudden  hush  over  all 
the  course.  The  promenade  on  the  lawn  stops 
for  the  time,  and  every  one  seeks  some  point  from 
which  the  race  can  be  viewed.  The  roar  on  the 
hill  ceases,  the  swing-boats  and  merry-go-rounds 
are  still,  while  all  prepare  to  watch  the  struggle. 
In  five  minutes,  the  result  will  be  telegraphed  to 
every  town  through  a  continent  of  three  million 
miles,  huge  sums  of  money  will  have  changed 
hands,  a  few  fortunate  ones  will  have  become 
suddenly  rich,  and  many  thousands  disappointed. 
Three  minutes  of  breathless  suspense,  a  mighty 
roar  as  the  struggling  horses  flash  past  the 
winning-post,  and  then  the  great  crowd  settles 
down  to  its  promenading  and  picnicking  again. 
The  race  is  the  great  event  of  the  day,  certainly, 
but  there  are  old  friends  to  be  met,  reminiscences 
to  be  exchanged,  and  luncheons  and  afternoon 
teas  to  be  consumed.  East  meets  West  on  Cup 
Day,  and  North  meets  South.  It  is  much  more 
than  a  mere  race  meeting  to  a  sparsely  popu- 
lated country  such  as  Australia. 


1 86  Australian  Life 

The  conduct  of  horse-racing  in  Australia  is 
marked  by  the  regard  paid  to  the  convenience 
and  comfort  of  the  race-going  public.  Of  the 
minor  improvements  introduced  upon  Australian 
race-courses,  such  as  the  numbering  of  saddle- 
cloths, so  that  spectators  can,  by  a  glance  at  their 
cards,  tell  the  name  of  a  horse  without  reference 
to  the  colours  worn  by  his  rider,  much  has  been 
written.  Betting  in  many  of  the  Australian 
States  takes  place  on  the  course  through  the 
agency  of  the  totalisator,  or  pari-mtittiel,  while  in 
other  states,  book-makers  are  controlled  by  the 
racing  clubs  governing  the  sport.  Admission 
fees  to  the  race-courses  are  strictly  reasonable, 
and  it  is  certain  that  while  more  of  the  Aus- 
tralians have  a  personal  knowledge  of  racing 
gained  from  attending  the  courses,  there  is  much 
less  of  the  blind  and  ignorant  gambling  which 
takes  place  in  the  cities  of  Great  Britain  among 
men  who  never  saw  a  race-horse  extended.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  would  be  idle  to  contend  for 
one  moment  that  the  sport  is  as  pure  in  itself  in 
Australia  as  in  Great  Britain.  Many  of  the  Aus- 
tralian owners  of  race-horses  are  frankly  con- 
cerned in  racing  for  the  sake  of  the  money  they 
hope  to  make  at  it,  and  incidents  take  place  at 
some  of  the  minor  meetings  that  would  not  for 
one  moment  be  tolerated  by  the  English  Jockey 
Club. 

The  climate  of  Australia  largely  accounts  for 
the  skill  in  cricket  which  has  now  become  recog- 


The  Australian  at  Play        187 

nised  as  an  Australian  attribute.  It  would  easily 
be  possible  in  many  parts  of  Australia  to  play 
cricket  throughout  the  winter,  and  many 
cricketers  devote  that  season  to  baseball,  recog- 
nised as  a  summer  pastime  in  America.  Perhaps 
nothing  is  more  eloquent  of  the  Australian 
interest  in  sport,  than  the  appearance  of  the 
newspaper  offices  during  the  progress  of  an 
Anglo- Australian  cricket  match.  Hoardings  are 
erected  on  the  street  frontage  of  each  office,  and 
from  time  to  time,  bulletins  are  posted  there 
announcing  the  latest  scores,  with  full  par- 
ticulars. All  day  long  a  crowd  stands  before 
each  hoarding,  disclosing  by  shrewd  comments 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  game.  The  same 
knowledge  is  often  displayed  by  the  much 
abused  "barracker,"  who  yells  advice  and 
reproach  at  the  players  during  the  course  of  the 
match.  It  is  an  evil  custom  certainly,  and  can- 
not be  excused  even  in  experts  who  may  usually 
be  found,  not  as  spectators,  but  as  active  ex- 
ponents of  the  game. 

It  is  in  this  particular  that  an  Australian  cricket 
crowd  differs  most  essentially  from  a  similar 
gathering  in  England.  The  regular  spectator 
can  hardly  be  said  to  exist,  for  these  large  crowds 
are  reserved  for  very  special  occasions.  An  ordi- 
nary club  cricket  match  does  not  attract  more  than 
a  few  score  of  watchers,  while  every  vacant  piece 
of  land  proves  that  the  Australian,  as  a  rule,  would 
rather  play  cricket  than  look  at  it.      Football, 


1 88  Australian  Life 

on  the  other  hand,  draws  its  regular  crowds  of 
spectators;  and  it  is  not  uninteresting  to  note 
that  in  most  of  the  Australian  States,  the  game 
is  played  according  to  a  set  of  rules  of  local 
origin.  The  result  is  a  fast,  exciting  game,  best 
played  on  a  dry  field  with  a  lively  ball.  For  a 
bracing,  sunny  winter  afternoon,  there  is  no  finer 
game  for  player  or  spectator,  and  the  popularity 
of  football  can  readily  be  understood. 

A  visit  to  one  of  the  large  city  parks  on  Satur- 
day afternoon  will  show  that  the  Australian's 
aptitude  for  sport  has  caused  him  to  adopt,  not 
only  all  the  recognised  pastimes  of  Great  Britain, 
but  those  of  many  other  countries  as  well.  He 
takes  baseball  from  the  United  States,  lacrosse 
from  Canada,  and  polo  from  Asia,  and  can  boast, 
in  addition,  of  one  or  two  sports  that  are 
peculiarly  his  own. 

Most  of  these  belong  to  the  men  of  the  bush, 
and,  perhaps,  the  most  interesting  and  character- 
istic among  them  is  the  sport  of  wood-chopping. 
A  championship  contest  is  at  once  a  novel  and 
exciting  spectacle,  and  one  not  readily  forgotten. 
Each  axeman  has  his  trainer,  who  plays  the 
part  of  mentor  during  the  contest,  sometimes 
pointing  to  the  spot  where  the  next  blow  could  be 
delivered  with  most  advantage,  and  continually 
reporting  the  progress  made  by  the  other  com- 
petitors. The  logs  to  be  severed — all  practically 
of  the  same  girth — stand  upright,  so  that  the 
axemen  deliver  their  blows  in  the  same  position 


The  Australian  at  Play       189 

as  when  felling  a  tree.  At  a  given  signal,  all 
fall  to  work,  the  sharp  axes  bite  their  way- 
through  the  solid  logs,  and  great  segments  of 
wood  fall  thick  and  fast  upon  the  ground.  It  is 
impossible  to  predict  where  victory  will  rest,  for 
those  who  start  best  often  tire  most  rapidly,  and 
sometimes  a  man  will  fall  down  from  sheer  ex- 
haustion before  the  log  is  severed,  since  wood- 
chopping  mades  a  severe  demand  upon  even  the 
strongest  frame.  But  the  cheer  that  goes  up 
when  the  first  log  topples  over  relieves  the  ten- 
sion, and  the  victor's  name  and  the  time  occu- 
pied in  the  performance  of  the  feat  are  quickly 
announced.  Cash  prizes  of  a  very  substantial 
size  are  often  won  by  expert  axemen,  a  few  of 
whom  have  exalted  the  accomplishment  into  a 
profession.  Wood-chopping  contests  are  adver- 
tised for  many  weeks  beforehand,  and  during  an 
afternoon  devoted  to  this  pastime,  the  sport  is 
varied  by  contests  in  splitting  and  sawing  wood. 
Like  the  British  soldier,  the  Western  Australian 
miner  is  no  stranger  to  the  delight  afforded  by  a 
camel  race,  with  native  riders.  Many  of  the 
Afghans  are  very  proud  of  the  speed  and  endur- 
ance of  their  saddle  camels,  and  it  is  no  difficult 
matter  to  arrange  a  race,  when  the  bulk  of  the 
fun  is  afforded  by  the  efforts  of  the  riders  to 
urge  the  beasts  along.  The  excitement  is  mainly 
confined  to  the  Afghan  spectators,  who  are  all 
violent  partisans,  and  shout  frantically  at  the 
animals  they  do  not  wish  to  win,  in  the  hope  of 


iQo  Australian  Life 

inducing  them  to  lie  down.  The  sequel  is  invari- 
ably a  terrific  squabble,  during  which  challenges 
are  thrown  out  and  a  fresh  race  is  arranged. 
Even  quainter  than  a  camel  race  is  the  goat-race, 
peculiar,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  the  race-courses 
of  Northern  Queensland,  and  not  unusually  the 
brightest  item  in  the  day's  programme  of  sport. 
In  dealing  with  the  amusements  of  the  bush,  it 
would  be  possible  to  dilate  upon  the  sheep- 
shearing  contests  that  take  place  at  the  country 
shows,  and  the  competitions  in  riding  buck -jump- 
ing horses ;  also  the  rock- drilling  matches  that 
may  be  witnessed  in  a  mining-camp.  They  are 
at  least  interesting  as  showing  how  the  Aus- 
tralian makes  a  sport  of  the  occupation  in  which 
he  excels. 

For  shooting  and  fishing  in  Australia,  no 
licenses  are  required,  but  the  sportsman  must 
have  a  knowledge  of  the  close  seasons,  and  of  the 
birds  and  animals  protected  throughout  the  year. 
Game  is  not  everywhere  plentiful,  but  the  pursuit 
of  it  afibrds  a  pleasant  excuse  for  the  best  of  all 
Australian  amusements,  that  of  camping  out.  To 
pitch  a  tent  on  the  banks  of  a  clear  stream,  with 
plenty  of  good  water-holes  for  bathing,  and  to 
sleep  on  a  thick  couch  of  springy  fern  is  a  joy  in 
itself  during  the  golden  Australian  summer.  The 
stream  holds  all  sorts  of  wonders,  crayfish,  and 
black  fish,  and  little  silver  trout.  A  glimpse  of 
a  platypus  may  sometimes  be  caught,  if  the 
locality  is  a  sufficiently  remote  one,  and  a  sight 


The  Australian  at  Play       191 

of  a  pair  of  these  water-moles  at  play  is  reward 
enough  to  the  nature-lover  for  much  patient 
watching.  In  the  big  water-hole,  there  will 
surely  be  black  duck  and  teal,  both  very  welcome 
additions  to  the  larder,  while  the  presence  of  the 
rabbit  may  be  taken  as  a  matter  of  course. 
Every  patch  of  scrub  may  shelter  a  wallaby,  but 
one  may  only  look  from  a  distance  at  the  big 
forester  kangaroos,  hopping  away  at  long  range 
among  the  open  forest  trees. 

Flour  and  bacon,  with  potatoes  and  onions, 
and,  of  course,  tea  and  sugar,  are  necessities  to 
the  camper-out;  also  a  pair  of  blankets,  the 
oldest  clothes  available,  not  forgetting  a  pair  of 
thick  leather  leggings  as  a  precaution  against 
snake  bite,  and  just  as  much  or  as  little  sporting 
paraphernalia  as  may  seem  desirable.  A  horse 
and  cart  for  the  conveyance  of  these  things,  and 
of  the  tent,  may  be  hired  at  the  railway-station 
nearest  the  chosen  spot,  and  then  all  arrangements 
are  made.  From  the  first  dip  in  the  water-hole 
before  the  sun  is  up  to  the  last  pipe  smoked 
around  the  camp  fire  before  turning  in,  the  whole 
day  is  one  round  of  keen  delight.  Damper  and 
billy  tea  provide  a  meal  that  appears  in  the  light 
of  a  choice  confection,  and  the  feeblest  joke  gains 
a  zest  from  its  surroundings. 

IvCt  me  recall  but  one  incident  from  among 
many  memories  of  camp  life.  We  had  been  in 
camp  a  week  in  a  secluded  valley  in  the  Dividing 
Ranges,  and  during  that  time  had  seen  no  human 


192  Australian  Life 

faces  but  those  of  our  own  party.  That  night  we 
were  sitting  around  the  fire  under  the  stars,  and 
finishing  the  last  of  a  demijohn  of  excellent  Aus- 
tralian wine  bought  at  a  vineyard  on  the  road, 
when  we  heard,  far  away,  the  footbeats  of  an 
approaching  horse.  We  listened  in  silence  as 
they  came  nearer,  and  presently  a  horseman  rode 
into  our  circle  of  firelight  and  drew  rein.  He 
stayed  only  long  enough  to  explain  his  errand, 
for  he  was  riding  across  country  to  the  nearest 
township  for  a  doctor.  Then  he  drank  the 
profiered  cup  of  wine,  and  was  gone  into  the 
darkness,  the  only  man  we  saw  during  our  stay 
there. 

Even  big-game  shooting  is  possible  for  the 
ambitious  sportsman  in  Australia.  The  Northern 
Territory  has  its  herds  of  swamp  buffalo,  the 
descendants  of  animals  introduced  from  the 
Malay  archipelago  in  the  middle  of  the  last  cen- 
tury. The  shooting  of  these  animals  has  been 
made  an  occupation  by  a  band  of  adventurous 
men,  who  obtain  handsome  incomes  from  the 
sale  of  hides,  horns,  and  salted  buffalo  beef.  On 
Melville  Island,  near  Arnheim  Peninsula,  the 
buffalo  herds  are  estimated  to  number  fifty  thou- 
sand, the  right  of  shooting  them  belonging  to 
one  man,  who  has  rigorously  preserved  them  for 
some  years.  The  buffalo  shooter  must  be  able  to 
ride  well,  and  willing  at  any  time  to  take  the  risk 
of  an  encounter  with  an  infuriated  buffalo  bull. 
The  country  inhabited  by  the  buffalo  herds  is 


The  Australian  at  Play       193 

swampy,  and  in  holding  ground,  the  buffalo,  by- 
reason  of  his  large  flat  feet,  holds  a  distinct 
advantage  over  a  horse.  It  is  the  custom  of  the 
riders  to  keep  a  respectful  distance  while  pur- 
suing their  quarry  through  the  swamps,  but  to 
ride  up  to  the  animal's  quarters  when  sound 
going  has  been  reached.  Then  a  shot  from  a  car- 
bine or  shortened  rifle  shatters  the  animal's  spinal 
column,  and  it  is  left  to  be  despatched  and 
skinned  by  the  aboriginal  assistants  who  follow 
in  the  horses' s  tracks,  while  the  shooter  himself 
rides  on  after  the  flying  herd. 

The  sportsmen  who  have  introduced  animals 
and  fish  from  the  Old  World  are  not  altogether 
to  be  congratulated  upon  the  result  of  their  enter- 
prise. The  streams  have  been  stocked  with 
trout,  which  have  thriven  and  eaten  up  the 
native  fish,  and  multiplied,  only  to  treat  with  con- 
tempt every  lure  in  the  shape  of  an  artificial  fly, 
and  to  fall  an  ignominious  prey  to  the  boy  who 
baits  with  a  local  grasshopper.  Foxes  have  been 
introduced  and  have  betaken  themselves  to  the 
hilly  ground,  where  it  is  impossible  to  hunt  them. 
They  have  become  a  pest  to  the  farmer,  and  every 
Australian  shoots  a  fox  on  sight  as  readily  as  he 
would  a  snake.  The  depredations  of  the  rabbit 
in  Australia  are  well  known,  and  in  some  dis- 
tricts, hares  are  almost  as  great  a  nuisance.  The 
house-sparrow  and  the  Indian  mina  were  surely 
unnecessary,  even  to  the  sportsman,  but  they  are 
there,   and  it  is  impossible  to  get  rid  of  them 


194 


Australian  Life 


It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  a  gentleman 
who  proposed  introducing  the  African  eland  into 
Australia  was  begged  by  the  Press  to  consider 
first  whether  that  animal  might  not  develop  in 
his  new  habitat  some  latent  vice  not  readily  dis- 
cernible in  his  natural  surroundings. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


THE  ABORIGINES 


THE  rapid  dwindling  of  the  aboriginal  races  of 
Australia,  since  the  coming  of  the  white 
man,  is  one  of  the  least  attractive  incidents  in 
the  development  of  the  continent.  The  Tas- 
manian  blacks  are  already  extinct,  and  of  the 
scattered  tribes  of  Victoria,  only  a  few  hundred 
members  now  remain.  There  were  more  than 
six  thousand  full-blooded  blacks  in  New  South 
Wales  in  1882,  and  twenty  years  later,  the  num- 
ber had  shrunk  to  less  than  three  thousand.  Mr. 
Archibald  Meston,  Protector  of  Aborigines  in 
Southern  Queensland,  estimates  that  the  number 
of  blacks  in  that  state  was  two  hundred  thousand 
in  the  year  1840,  and  these,  according  to  the 
same  authority,  had  been  reduced  to  twenty-five 
thousand  at  the  end  of  the  century.  In  spite  of 
the  most  stringent  laws  passed  for  the  protection 
of  this  remnant,  they  annually  decrease  by  at 
least  five  hundred,  and  it  is  therefore  the  opinion 
of  the  authority  I  have  quoted  that  the  race  will 
be  practically  extinct  in  Queensland  by  the 
middle  of  the  present  century.  In  Central  and 
>95 


196  Australian  Life 

North-Western  Australia,  there  are  large  tribes 
of  blacks  still  living  in  their  primitive  condition 
of  wildness,  but  the  laws  existing  for  their  pro- 
tection are  not  so  carefully  drawn  as  in  Queens- 
land. The  opportunities  for  obtaining  drink  and 
opium  are  too  many,  and  too  frequent,  and  these 
tribes  are  also  diminishing  in  number. 

This  rapid  decay  of  an  interesting  race,  unfor- 
tunate as  it  is,  would  appear  to  be  inevitable. 
The  unvarying  testimony  of  all  the  authorities 
upon  the  subject  goes  to  prove  that  contact  with 
civilisation  is  fatal  to  the  Australian  black.  His 
rapid  extermination  may  have  been  hastened  in 
the  past  by  carelessness  and  cruelty  of  treatment 
that  was  grossly  selfish  on  the  part  of  the  white 
man,  but  even  the  most  intelligent  and  best- 
intentioned  eflforts  to  civilise  this  people  have 
proved  abortive  and  injurious  to  them.  The 
only  elements  of  civilised  existence  they  seem 
able  to  assimilate  are  those  calculated  to  prove 
destructive  to  them.  "In  their  wild  state,  they 
get  along  all  right,"  wrote  one  of  their  ofiScial 
protectors,  "  but  when  they  are  educated,  what 
can  we  do  with  them  ?  ' ' 

It  is,  indeed,  only  of  late  years  that  any 
organised  attempt  has  been  made  to  obtain 
accurate  and  scientific  knowledge  of  their  real 
and  natural  life,  and  of  the  curious  and  interest- 
ing tribal  customs  which  survive  among  them. 
The  task  has  been  one  of  considerable  diflSculty, 
since  the  sources   of  information   most  readily 


The  Aborigines  197 

available  have  been  tainted  by  communication 
and  intercourse  with  the  white  man.  It  has, 
nevertheless,  been  possible  to  gather  from  the 
scattered  remnants  of  the  original  Australian 
race,  still  living  in  a  wild  state,  an  excellent  idea 
of  life  in  Australia  when  the  black-fellow  roamed 
in  undisputed  possession  of  the  continent.  Of 
agriculture,  he  had  not  even  the  most  primitive 
idea,  and  relied  for  food  upon  the  wild  fruits  and 
vegetables  of  Australia,  and  upon  the  game 
secured  during  his  fishing  and  hunting  expedi- 
tions. The  only  animal  he  has  ever  succeeded 
in  domesticating  is  the  dog,  and  every  tribe  of 
blacks  is  still  accompanied  by  large  packs  of 
these  animals.  As  a  rule,  the  black-fellow  is 
fond  of  his  dogs,  and  feeds  them  when  he  is  able. 
But  even  when  they  have  to  look  after  them- 
selves, they  are  certainly  not  treated  with  any 
active  cruelty,  nor  set  to  fight  for  the  amusement 
of  their  masters.  The  dogs  are  useful  only  to  the 
wild  black-fellows,  who  have  to  exist  by  hunting 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  year. 

The  same  necessity  which  made  him  tame  the 
dog  has  also  impelled  him  to  invent  the  most 
scientific  wooden  weapons  that  the  world  can 
show.  It  is  curious  that,  although  the  develop- 
ment of  the  aborigine  was  arrested  at  the  stage 
of  the  manufacture  of  wooden  weapons,  he  has 
nevertheless  succeeded  in  making  the  boomerang 
and  the  woomera,  both  highly  ingenious  and 
efifective   weapons,    which   he    handles   with    a 


198  Australian  Life 

remarkable  degree  of  skill.  The  boomerang  has 
often  been  described,  and  examples  of  the 
woomera,  or  throwing  stick,  may  be  seen  in  most 
museums.  It  is  a  short,  stout  stick,  notched  at 
one  end  to  receive  the  butt  of  an  exceedingly- 
long  and  light  spear.  With  a  woomera,  the 
adept  can  throw  these  light  spears  with  amazing 
force  and  accuracy,  and  although  the  spear-tips 
are  made  of  hard  wood  only,  tliese  missiles 
served  to  kill  kangaroos  and  emus,  and  after- 
wards sheep  and  cattle. 

In  a  very  interesting  paper  on  aboriginal  foods, 
Dr.  Roth,  of  North  Queensland,  has  enumerated 
more  than  two  hundred  varieties  of  fruits  and 
vegetables  which  are  eaten.  When  he  can  get 
them,  the  black  shows  no  aversion  to  insects  and 
reptiles  of  all  kinds.  Snakes  are  regarded  as  a 
delicacy,  and  the  hills  of  some  species  of  ants  are 
plundered,  eggs,  larvae,  and  mature  insects  being 
kneaded  into  a  kind  of  paste,  and  eaten  with 
relish.  Grubs  of  all  kinds,  and  especially  the 
large,  white  grubs  found  under  the  bark  of  the 
wattle  tree,  are  looked  upon  with  extreme  favour, 
and  are  sometimes  roasted,  and  sometimes  eaten 
raw.  Earth-eating  is  also  practised  by  some  of 
the  Queensland  blacks,  to  satisfy  a  craving 
created  by  a  disease  common  among  them,  and 
not  unknown  among  the  whites  of  the  same 
locality. 

In  fishing  and  hunting,  the  black- fellow  is  at 
his  best,  and  shows  himself  possessed  of  great 


The  Aborigines  199 

skill,  cunning,  and  endurance.  Emus  are  driven 
into  traps  and  pits,  or  else  speared,  after  much 
patient  stalking.  Snares  are  set  for  smaller 
birds,  which  are  also  killed  with  the  boomerang. 
Swans  and  ducks  are  taken  by  swimming  and 
diving,  the  head  of  the  hunter  being  concealed 
in  a  mass  of  aquatic  weeds.  Kangaroos  are 
tracked  and  speared,  or  run  down  with  dogs, 
while  the  dogs  also  assist  in  driving  the  wallabies 
into  snares  and  nets.  The  black-fellow  catches 
opossums  by  climbing  the  trees  in  which  they 
live,  sounding  the  trunks  for  hollows  in  which 
these  animals  shelter. 

Fishing  is  carried  on  in  several  ways.  In  an- 
gling, they  employ  the  sucker-fish  as  a  natural 
hook,  but  a  more  favoured  method  of  taking  fish 
is  that  of  stupefying  them  by  treading  the  water 
until  it  becomes  very  muddy,  or  by  the  use  of 
some  vegetable  poison.  They  also  make  nets 
into  which  the  fish  are  driven,  and  some  tribes 
show  great  skill  in  spearing  fish. 

The  manufactures  of  the  black-fellow  are  not 
limited  to  the  fashioning  of  his  weapons,  for  the 
women  make  many  articles  of  string.  Some  of 
this  string  is  twisted  from  the  hair  of  human 
beings,  and  animals,  but  the  greater  part  of  it  is 
made  of  the  vegetable  fibre  of  the  spinifex  grass. 
This  is  chewed  and  soaked  to  get  rid  of  the 
adhesive  matter,  and  then  twisted  into  strands 
in  a  very  businesslike  fashion.  From  the  string 
thus  made,    nets   for   fishing   and   hunting  are 


200  Australian  Life 

manufactured,  as  are  the  dilly-bags  in  which 
the  gins  carry  their  possessions.  The  unfailing 
amusement  of  the  women  and  children,  it  is 
interesting  to  learn,  is  an  elaborate  imitation  of 
the  game  of  cat's  cradle;  for  with  a  length  of 
string,  all  sorts  of  designs  are  produced,  each 
of  which  is  supposed  to  bear  resemblance  to  some 
natural  object. 

The  amusements  of  the  men  consist  in  athletic 
contests,  in  duels,  partly  sham,  but  still  of  a  very 
realistic  nature,  and  in  tribal  dancing.  Owing 
to  the  investigations  of  Messrs.  Spencer  and 
Gillen,  the  true  significance  of  some  of  these 
dances  or  corroborees  is  now  understood.  The 
information  was  gathered  in  the  course  of  two 
expeditions  to  Central  Australia,  when  photo- 
graphs and  even  cinematographic  records  of  the 
corroborees  were  obtained.  One  typical  dance  is 
reserved  for  the  rainy  season,  and  is  supposed  to 
be  conducive  to  the  fall  of  the  much-desired 
showers.  In  this  dance,  some  of  the  actors  repre- 
sent ducks  and  other  aquatic  birds  which  make 
their  appearance  during  the  rainy  season,  and 
they  deck  themselves  for  the  performance  with 
objects  symbolical  of  clouds  and  running  water, 
thus  preserving  the  significance  attached  to  this 
special  dance. 

At  least  one  aboriginal  dialect  has  been 
reduced  to  a  written  language  by  Dr.  Roth,  as- 
sisted by  two  German  missionaries,  Messrs. 
Schwartz    and    Poland,    of    the    Lake  Bedford 


The  Aborigines  201 

Station.  This  language  is  exceedingly  interest- 
ing, on  account  of  its  remarkable  inflections  and 
grammatical  complications,  an  extremelj^  limited 
vocabulary  of  root  words  being  most  ingeniously 
employed  to  serve  all  the  purposes  of  a  spoken 
language.  Dr.  Roth  declares  it  to  be  identical 
with  the  dialect  of  which  Captain  Cook  made  a 
vocabular}^  in  the  year  1770,  since  which  time  the 
spoken  language  appears  to  have  undergone  few, 
if  any,  alterations. 

Interesting  as  the  black-fellow  undoubtedly  is 
while  he  remains  in  his  wild  condition,  when  he 
comes  into  close  contact  with  the  white  man  he 
presents  a  spectacle  that  is  pitiable  and  pathetic. 
A  visit  to  one  of  the  aboriginal  reservations  will 
convince  any  inquirer  that,  with  the  very  best  in- 
tentions, the  Australian  Governments  are  able  to 
do  but  little  for  those  people.  Houses  built  to 
shelter  them  are  kept  in  a  bare  and  sordid  state, 
and  the  uncultivated  state  of  the  good  lands  they 
possess  shows  that  it  is  impossible  to  instil  into 
them  even  the  rudiments  of  agriculture.  The 
large  proportion  of  half-caste  children,  while  it  is 
a  reproach  to  the  whites,  is  also  eloquent  of  the 
absence  of  any  vestige  of  morality  in  either  black 
man  or  woman.  Neither  the  stringency  of  laws, 
nor  the  vigilance  of  paid  ofl&cials  serves  to  protect 
the  black  race  from  itself;  for  it  dates  back  to  an 
era  before  the  stone  age,  and  cannot  be  in  any 
way  reconciled  with  the  conditions  of  to-day. 

The  skill  of  the  aboriginal  as  a  tracker  has 


202  Australian  Life 

formed  the  subject  of  countless  stories,  many  of 
which  can  be  readily  verified.  Attached  to  the 
police  force  of  each  of  the  Australian  States  is  a 
band  of  these  black  trackers,  whose  services  are 
most  useful  in  tracing  the  footsteps  of  criminals 
or  of  unfortunates  lost  in  the  bush. 

These  trackers  are  drawn  from  the  wildest  and 
least  civilised  tribes  of  Northern  Australia,  and 
it  is  curious  to  notice  how  rapidly  they  lose  the 
instinct  which  makes  their  services  of  value. 
After  a  very  few  years,  it  is  generally  found 
necessary  to  dismiss  them  and  to  fill  their  places 
with  men  freshly  drawn  from  the  wild  existence 
natural  and  necessary  to  the  welfare  of  the  Aus- 
tralian blacks.  In  a  book  on  the  Black  Police  of 
Queensland,  Mr.  E.  B.  Kennedy,  who  had  a  long 
and  varied  experience  with  that  force,  narrates 
many  instances  of  the  tracking  ability  of  the 
black-fellow.  One  of  these  is  of  especial  signifi- 
cance, because  it  proves  that  the  tracker  loses 
none  of  his  skill  when  transferred  to  another 
land  where  the  local  conditions  are  unfamiliar 
to  him. 

Attached  to  one  of  the  Australian  contingents 
sent  to  the  Boer  war  was  a  native  Australian 
tracker  called  Billy.  Some  English  officers,  when 
discussing  scouting  and  kindred  topics  with  their 
Australian  colleagues,  expressed  their  doubt  as 
to  the  powers  of  the  tracker  being  as  great  as 
they  were  represented,  although  admitting  their 
belief  that  the  stories  told  them  might  have  some 


The  Aborigines  203 

foundation  in  fact.  A  trial  was  at  once  arranged, 
and  five  officers  set  ofiF,  at  diflferent  hours  and  in 
different  directions,  two  on  foot,  and  three  ou 
horseback;  Billy  being  meantime  locked  up. 
When  released  he  followed  up  each  track  in  turn, 
and  on  his  return  to  camp,  note-books  were  taken 
out  and  he  was  told  to  proceed.  Billy  forthwith 
sketched  the  routes  taken  by  each,  described  how 
one  had  tied  up  his  horse,  and  climbed  a  tree, 
although  there  was  neither  "  possum  or  sugar 
bag"  in  it.  One  of  the  footmen  was  a  "silly 
pfeller,"  for  he  had  gone  out  in  his  socks  and  cut 
his  foot,  and  so  lamed  himself  for  the  rest  of  his 
journey.  The  half-burnt  match  of  another  man 
who  had  lighted  his  pipe  was  produced,  as  well 
as  hairs  establishing  the  fact  that  the  three  horses 
were  dark  brown,  light  brown,  and  grey  in 
colour.  In  short,  Billy  quite  convinced  those 
English  oflBcers  that  his  powers  were  as  great  as 
had  been  claimed. 

Apart  from  this  sphere  of  usefulness,  the 
aborigines  make  splendid  stockmen,  for  they  are 
good  natural  horsemen,  and  their  keen  sight  and 
hearing,  as  well  as  their  instinct  for  observation, 
are  of  the  greatest  advantage  in  this  work.  It 
more  closely  resembles  their  natural  life,  provid- 
ing them  with  plenty  of  change  and  excitement, 
and  with  the  nomad  existence  to  which  they  have 
always  been  accustomed.  But  should  the  tribe 
to  which  they  belong  make  its  appearance  in  the 
neighbourhood,  they  at  once  grow  unsettled  and 


204  Australian  Life 

sullen,  and  nothing  will  restrain  them  from 
"going  wild,"  for  a  time  at  least.  As  they  grow 
older,  this  longing  for  freedom  from  restraint 
gains  upon  them,  and  they  become  less  diligent 
and  attentive  to  their  duties.  The  best  work  is 
obtained  from  those  who  are  taken  when  quite 
young,  and  removed  to  some  distance  from  the 
district  to  which  they  belong. 

The  women  are  more  reliable,  and  on  the  sta- 
tions in  the  far  West  and  North,  perform  all  the 
household  drudgery.  Some  of  them  make  very 
faithful  and  useful  servants,  and  as  they  are  very 
fond  of  children,  are  frequently  employed  as 
nurses.  They  are  cheerful  and  good-tempered, 
fond  of  a  joke,  and  of  bright  colours,  and  easily 
managed  by  any  one  who  understands  them.  La- 
dies who  have  grown  accustomed  to  them  will 
often  declare  that  they  prefer  them  to  the  best 
white  servants,  especially  for  work  in  the  bush. 
This  opinion  is  shared  by  some  of  the  gins  them- 
selves, if  the  story  told  by  a  Western  station 
holder  be  true.  His  wife  employed  an  Irish 
servant-girl  as  well  as  a  black  gin,  and  between 
the  pair  an  endless  quarrel  went  on.  For  the 
Irish  girl,  the  lady  of  the  house  made  a  dress,  and 
promised  the  gin  one  exactly  like  it.  She  was 
rather  surprised  to  hear  the  latter  begging  for 
something  of  different  pattern,  and  on  asking 
the  reason  was  told,  "Mine  think  it  people  take 
me  for  sister  that  white  Mary. ' ' 

According  to  bush  report,  the  black-fellow  has 


The  Aborigines  205 

a  very  poor  head  for  figures,  and  is  unable  to 
count  beyond  ten.  Hence  the  story  of  the  black- 
fellow  whose  master  took  him  to  Sydney,  and 
who,  on  his  return  to  the  station,  was  questioned 
by  the  boundary-rider,  "Well,  Jacky,  did  you  see 
many  people  in  Sydney  ?  " 

'  *  My  word  !  Tousands  !  Millions  !  Very  nearly 
fifty!" 

Even  on  the  far-out  cattle  stations,  poor  Jacky 
is  worse  off  than  in  his  wild  state.  For  his  rugs 
of  native  animals,  he  learns  to  substitute  absorb- 
ent blankets,  and  the  damp  affects  him  in  a 
terrible  way.  Pulmonary  complaints  develop 
with  an  awful  rapidity,  and  the  black- fellow  is 
unable  to  make  any  fight  against  them.  He  is 
even  worse  off  in  the  more  settled  districts,  where 
he  may  be  seen  hanging  around  the  public- 
houses  and  begging  for  money  and  tobacco. 

Some  of  them  find  employment  on  the  sugar 
plantations,  but  in  too  many  cases  their  em- 
ployers are  Chinamen,  who  bribe  them  to  work 
with  gifts  of  opium.  There  is  a  law  forbidding 
any  one  to  supply  this  drug  to  the  aborigines 
under  very  severe  penalties;  but  the  Chinese  defy 
it,  and  add  to  the  offence  by  supplying  the  opium 
in  a  most  deadly  form,  adulterated  with  the  ashes 
from  opium  pipes  already  smoked.  Indulgence 
in  this  poisonous  drug  is  even  more  fatal  to  the 
blacks  than  spirits,  but  they  readily  acquire  the 
craving  for  it,  and  will  do  anything  for  a  small 
quantity. 


2o6  Australian  Life 

The  myall,  or  wild  black-fellow,  is  frequently 
a  law-breaker,  his  peculiar  weakness  being  the 
spearing  of  cattle.  At  a  place  called  Wyndham 
in  the  north  of  Western  Australia,  there  is  a  gaol 
devoted  solely  to  aboriginal  prisoners,  the  majority 
of  whom  have  been  convicted  of  this  offence. 
This  gaol  will  accommodate  a  hundred  prisoners, 
and  is  usually  full,  the  ordinary  sentence  imposed 
for  cattle-spearing  being  from  three  to  six  months. 
It  would  be  interesting  to  know  to  what  extent 
the  wild  black  is  acquainted  with  the  rights  of 
property,  and  exactly  what  difference  he  sees 
between  spearing  a  bullock  and  spearing  a 
kangaroo. 

It  seems  idle  to  express  any  hope  for  the  future 
of  this  race,  or  to  propose  any  plan  for  arresting 
its  rapid  decay.  The  portions  of  Australia  not 
yet  occupied  by  the  white  race  are  considered  to 
be  the  most  arid  and  unproductive  areas  of  the 
continent,  and  these  are  all  that  is  left  to  the 
myall  of  the  country  he  once  held  without  dis- 
pute. Educational  influences  have  been  ex- 
pended upon  them  to  worse  than  no  purpose,  for 
it  is  generally  conceded  that  the  black  children 
brought  up  in  the  mission  schools  have  turned 
out  more  thievish,  idle,  and  vicious  than  any  of 
their  fellows.  The  utmost  distinction  ever  at- 
tained by  any  member  of  the  race  has  been  to 
become  a  clever  jockey,  a  swift  runner,  or  a 
skilful  cricketer.  Regeneration  of  this  people 
seems  out  of  the  question,  and  the  most  that  can 


The  Aborigines 


207 


be  done  is  to  treat  it  with  the  kindness  that  is 
extended  to  a  dying  man.  On  this  point,  the 
laws  of  some  of  the  Australian  States  might 
well  be  revised,  and  steps  taken  for  their  stricter 
enforcement. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A  WHITK   AUSTRAI^IA 

ALTHOUGH  untroubled  by  any  questions 
arising  out  of  the  presence  of  an  indigenous 
coloured  race,  the  Australians  recognise  a  more 
serious  danger  in  the  proximity  of  Asia  and  its 
surplus  millions  of  population.  They  con- 
sequently enforce  the  most  stringent  measures  of 
exclusion  against  the  coloured  alien,  and  espe- 
cially against  Chinese,  Japanese,  and  Indian 
coolies.  It  is  contended,  and  with  some  force, 
that  the  development  of  Northern  Australia  is 
seriously  retarded  by  these  restrictions,  and  there 
are  those  who  say  that  tropical  Australia  will 
always  remain  a  wilderness  if  white  labour  is 
relied  upon  for  its  cultivation.  The  same  argu- 
ments are  advanced  in  support  of  the  employ- 
ment of  Kanakas,  or  South  Sea  Islanders,  upon 
the  sugar  plantations  of  Queensland.  Before  the 
restrictive  measures  were  applied,  a  large  number 
of  coloured  immigrants  had  already  found  their 
way  to  Australia,  the  latest  census  revealing 
their  number  at  fifty-five  thousand,  of  whom 
thirty-two  thousand  are  Chinese,  and  ten  thou- 
208 


A  White  Australia  209 

sand  South  Sea  Islanders,  the  bulk  of  the 
remainder  consisting  of  Hindoos,  Japanese, 
Manila  men,  and  Afghans. 

The  reasons  that  induced  the  Commonwealth 
Parliament  to  decide  that  no  addition  should  be 
made  to  these  numbers  have  frequently  been 
rehearsed.  The  exclusionists  point  to  the  dif- 
ficulty thrust  upon  the  United  States  by  the 
presence  of  a  large  negro  population.  The  low 
standard  of  living  adopted  by  the  coloured  races, 
the  undesirable  intermixtures  of  race  already  evi- 
dent in  some  parts  of  Queensland,  and  the  absence 
of  due  regard  for  morality  and  sanitation,  are 
further  arguments  advanced  by  the  advocates  of 
a  "  White  Australia."  Even  those  who  admit 
that  coolie  labour  is  best  suited  to  tropical  Aus- 
tralia shake  their  heads  over  the  impossibility  of 
confining  the  coloured  alien  to  the  North,  and  so 
arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  it  is  better  the  North 
should  suffer  than  that  all  Australia  should  be 
overrun.  It  is  not  proposed  to  enter  into  the 
discussion  of  this  question,  but  rather  to  describe 
some  of  the  very  interesting  occupations  in  which 
the  coloured  alien  is  already  engaged. 

It  should  first  be  understood  that  the  ex- 
clusionist  legislation  of  the  first  Commonwealth 
Parliament  deals  with  two  aspects  of  the  coloured 
labour  question.  One  Act,  dealing  with  the 
indentured  labour  of  South  Sea  Islanders,  sets  a 
term  to  the  employment  of  this  labour.  The  last 
boats  carrying    indentured   labourers    from  the 


2IO  Australian  Life 

islands. to  Australia  arrived  in  Queensland  early 
in  1904,  and  from  that  time,  the  Kanakas  were 
deported  as  their  indentures  expired.  This  Act 
was  supplemented  by  an  offer  of  bonuses  to  the 
canegrowers  employing  white  labour  on  their 
plantations,  the  amounts  of  the  bonus  being 
proportionate  to  the  quantity  of  sugar  produced. 
The  object  of  these  bonuses  is  the  gradual  sub- 
stitution of  white  labour  for  coloured,  so  that  the 
deportation  of  the  Kanakas  may  be  accomplished 
without  dislocating  the  industry.  The  result  of 
this  experiment  will  be  watched  with  the  keenest 
interest,  especially  by  those  who  contend  that  the 
white  man  is  physically  incapable  of  the  work 
required  on  a  tropical  plantation.  The  second 
legislative  measure  provides,  among  other  things, 
an  educational  test  whereby  undesirable  immi- 
grants may  be  excluded.  The  greatest  merit  of 
this  test  lies  in  its  elasticity.  The  test  may  be 
reduced  almost  to  vanishing  point  for  the  benefit 
of  immigrants  whose  presence  is  welcome,  while 
an  undesirable  can  be  confronted,  if  necessary, 
with  a  stiff  paper  in  Greek,  The  Common- 
wealth Parliament  has  carried  its  opposition  to 
coloured  labour  to  the  length  of  abolishing  it  on 
the  boats  carrying  the  mails  to  and  from  the 
United  Kingdom,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  this  attitude  represents  the  sentiment  of  a 
majority  among  Australians. 

The  reader  has  already  been  introduced  to  the 
Chinaman  at  his  cabinet  and  laundry  works  in 


A  White  Australia  211 

the  cities,  and  raking  over  the  abandoned  work- 
ings of  the  gold-fields.  He  is  equally  successful 
as  a  market  gardener,  and  may  be  found  pursu- 
ing that  occupation  on  the  outskirts  of  almost 
every  Australian  town,  whether  large  or  small. 
His  ramshackle  wooden  hut  is  unmistakable,  the 
roof  patched  with  strips  of  rusty  tin,  and  the 
broken  windows  obscured  by  sheets  of  dingy 
paper.  In  this  hovel,  half  a  dozen  or  more  coolies 
are  crowded  together  in  a  condition  that  would 
appear  to  any  European  as  distinctly  uncomfort- 
able and  unsanitary.  A  set  of  bunks,  one  above 
the  other,  lines  the  walls,  and  a  peep  into  the 
malodorous  kitchen  proves  that  John  Chinaman's 
fare  is  as  meagre  as  his  sleeping  accommodation. 
In  the  tumble-down  stable,  however,  may  be 
found  a  sleek,  well-cared  for  horse,  luxuriating 
in  comfort.  "Fat  as  a  Chinaman's  horse,"  and 
"fat  as  a  larrikin's  dog,"  are  two  similes  of  a 
significant  frequency  in  Australia.  The  garden 
itself  is  a  picture  of  neatness  and  good  manage- 
ment. The  little  square  raised  beds  of  cabbage 
and  onions  are  free  from  weeds  and  flourishing, 
a  result  achieved  by  constant  diligence  and  a  sys- 
tem of  liquid  manuring  it  would  not  be  advisable 
to  investigate  too  closely,  if  the  vegetables  are  to 
be  eaten.  John  is  not  always  cleanly,  just  as  he 
is  not  always  communicative.  On  some  points, 
he  is  bubbling  over  with  information;  on  others, 
his  attitude  is  that  of  the  poor  untutored  foreigner 
with  a  very  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  English 


212  Australian  Life 

language.  He  shakes  his  head  and  smiles 
blandly,  murmuring  the  words,  "No  savvy,"  at 
intervals.  For  all  his  politeness,  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  break  through  his  wall  of  reserve. 

In  Northern  Queensland,  the  Chinaman  is  often 
a  wealthy  shopkeeper,  and  an  employer  of  both 
coloured  and  white  labour.  His  admirers  can 
point  to  his  donations  to  the  charities  in  proof 
that  he  is  not  ungenerous,  and  to  his  unfailing 
politeness  to  show  that  he  is  a  genial  soul,  shame- 
fully misunderstood.  The  fact  remains  that  his 
object  in  life  is  to  return  to  China  with  as  much 
money  as  he  can  possibly  carry  with  him,  and 
that  meantime  his  low  standard  of  morality  is  the 
more  dangerous  to  his  adopted  country  because 
he  seldom  brings  his  womenkind  with  him.  The 
Chinaman  has  done  good  work  in  the  Northern 
Territory  by  proving  the  immense  possibilities  of 
that  district  for  raising  coflfee,  arrowroot,  cotton, 
and  other  tropical  products.  Against  this  service 
must  be  set  his  utter  want  of  scruple  in  the  em- 
ployment of  the  aborigines,  whom  he  rewards 
with  doles  of  rum  and  the  opium  that  has  so 
deadly  an  effect  upon  them. 

Against  the  Chinaman  as  a  citizen  may  further 
be  urged  his  taste  for  secret  societies,  and  organ- 
ised opposition  to  the  law.  Definite  information 
on  the  subject  of  his  secret  societies  may  not 
readily  be  obtained,  because  of  the  reserve  he 
maintains  upon  this  subject  above  all  others.  It 
is  known,  however,  that  there  are  two  important 


A  White  Australia  213 

societies  with  branches  in  every  Chinese  com- 
munity in  Australia,  and  that  one  of  these  is  a 
wing  of  the  Boxer  organisation  so  prominent  of 
recent  years.  Evidence  of  the  existence  of 
Chinese  organisations  for  bribing  policemen  and 
magistrates  has  more  than  once  been  obtained, 
although  it  is  possible  that  John  may  be  credited 
with  greater  subtlety  in  this  direction  than  he 
really  possesses. 

An  example  of  the  slimness  of  the  Chinaman 
is  afforded  by  the  following  letter,  written  in 
reply  to  a  demand  for  rent  from  his  landlord,  by 
a  Chinaman,  who,  I  have  been  assured,  is  a 
shrewd  and  clever  business  man,  with  a  capital 
knowledge  of  colloquial  English,  both  written 
and  spoken: 

"Dear  Sir: 

"To  support  our  public  doctrine  of  \he prestige 
illustration  to  restore  salubrious  enjoyments 
prime  to  celebrate  the  Cup  season.  I  acknow- 
ledge your  transit,  will  supervise  the  same  your 
prime  of  health,  I  appreciate  you.  As  to  the 
detouration  of  the  season  it  will  prophesize  to 
foretell  the  thirstiness  of  the  consecuting  months: 
occasion  with  heavy  rainfall.  Household  dwell- 
ers, with  inferior  roof,  will  soon  complaint  and 
suflFer  same.  Strange  to  say  the  Being's  spending 
most  of  the  hour  in  dwelling-houses  is  the  bed- 
room: but  due  to  inferiority  of  the  roof  and  walls, 
sufferers  (sleepers)  are  compel  to  retire  from  their 


214  Australian  Life 

natural  slumber.  At  the  same  time  foundation 
of  houses  are  generally  destroyed  through  neglect 
of  improvements.  However,  this  matter  refer  to 
the  same  idea  of  our  dwelling  place.  The  best 
time  to  inspect  and  improve  is  during  the  rainy 
season.  In  conclusion  with  best  wishes  and  sus- 
tain, confirm  interest  to  aid  the  sufferers. 
"Yours  truly, 

"Wing  Mow." 

As  no  cheque  accompanied  this  lucid  note,  the 
landlord  took  legal  proceedings,  and  found  that 
his  agreement  had  been  signed  by  a  Chinaman 
who  was  not  of  age,  and  therefore  not  legally 
responsible.  This  is  only  one  of  many  examples 
that  could  be  adduced  in  illustration  of  the  cun- 
ning employed  by  the  Chinaman  in  playing  "the 
game  he  does  not  understand." 

At  Thursday  Island,  in  Torres  Straits,  and  at 
Broome,  on  Roebuck  Bay  in  the  north  of  Western 
Australia,  are  situated  the  headquarters  of  the 
pearling  industry.  Most  of  the  Japanese,  Malays, 
and  Manila  men  in  Australia  are  engaged  in  this 
occupation,  and  from  each  centre  a  fleet  of  some 
three  hundred  pearling  vessels  put  out.  The 
crews  and  divers  engaged  on  these  boats  are  all 
coloured  men,  who  work  under  the  commands  of 
a  white  skipper.  The  chief  product  of  the  in- 
dustry is  the  pearl-shell,  for  the  pearls  them- 
selves, although  giving  a  romantic  and  speculative 
interest  to  this  occupation,  are  regarded  as  only 
a  secondary  consideration.     Most  of  the  boats  are 


A  White  Australia  215 

fitted  with  an  air-pump  and  diving  apparatus, 
although  Thursday  Island  still  sends  boats  to  the 
shallower  fishing-grounds  manned  with  swim- 
ming divers  only.  The  maximum  depth  at 
which  the  man  in  diving  dress  can  work  is  twenty 
fathoms,  or  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet,  and,  at 
that  depth,  the  pressure  of  water  is  so  great  as  to 
produce  very  unpleasant  effects  upon  those  who 
are  called  upon  to  endure  it.  At  one  time,  white 
divers  were  not  unfrequent  upon  the  pearling 
grounds,  but  so  many  of  them  became  afflicted 
with  paralysis  that  diving  as  an  occupation  has 
been  abandoned  to  the  coloured  man.  The  white 
master  may  occasionally  descend  in  the  diving 
dress  for  the  purpose  of  examining  the  fishing- 
grounds  for  himself,  but  that  is  all. 

When  the  diver  is  at  work,  the  boat  is  allowed 
to  drift,  and  he  walks  along  the  ocean-bed  beneath 
it.  The  shell  he  gathers  is  sent  in  a  bag  to  the 
surface,  where  the  master  opens  it  and  searches  for 
the  pearls.  This  is  the  speculative  side  of  the 
business,  which  appeals  most  keenly  to  the  ad- 
venturous class  engaged  in  it.  Fortune  is  pro- 
verbially fickle,  and  men  who  have  spent  many 
years  at  the  fisheries  without  finding  a  pearl  of 
great  value  have  to  accept  with  resignation  the 
fact  that  the  most  precious  gem  ever  found  in 
Australia,  sold  in  London  for  ;^5ooo,  fell  to  a 
novice  who  had  just  embarked  in  the  pearling 
trade.  On  those  northern  coasts  of  Australia, 
the  difference  between  the  tides  is  very  great,  and 


2i6  Australian  Life 

the  residents  often  find  a  few  oyster  shells  upon 
the  beach  at  low  tide.  A  new  arrival  there 
had  the  pleasure  of  opening  his  first  find  and  dis- 
covering two  pearls,  one  worth  ^lo,  and  the 
other  worth  ^50.  This  took  place  in  the  presence 
of  a  resident  who  had  been  picking  up  shells  for 
years  without  any  notable  result,  and  the  disgust 
of  the  latter  was  naturally  too  deep  for  words. 
The  pearls  are  sometimes  found  in  the  fish,  some- 
times attached  to  the  shell,  and  sometimes  in  a 
"blister"  covered  over  with  mother-of-pearl. 

The  crews  of  the  pearling  boats  are  paid  from 
thirty  to  fifty  shillings  a  month,  according  to 
their  length  of  service,  while  the  divers  earn  a 
great  deal  more.  Most  of  them  are  engaged 
under  contract  at  Singapore,  and  when  the  term 
of  service  has  expired  are  able  to  renew  their 
engagement  on  better  terms.  A  clever  and  reli- 
able diver  is  thus  placed  in  the  position  of  being 
able  to  make  his  own  terms,  and  these  are  fre- 
quently a  very  remunerative  kind.  The  masters 
of  the  boats  are  made  responsible  for  their  men, 
and  should  one  of  these  desert  his  boat  and  escape 
into  Australia,  a  penalty  of  ^100  is  inflicted.  As 
a  further  precaution,  these  men  are  not  even 
allowed  to  go  ashore  until  an  ofl&cial  permit  has 
been  obtained.  These  conditions  are  considered 
quite  severe  enough  by  those  engaged  in  the  in- 
dustry, and  they  threaten  they  will  transfer  their 
headquarters  to  Dutch  territory  (in  Java  or  else- 
where) if  any  further  restrictions  are  imposed. 


A  White  Australia  217 

The  business  is  undoubtedly  a  remunerative 
one.  A  clever  diver  will  collect  five  tons  of  shells 
in  the  course  of  a  year,  and  the  best  quality  of 
shell  is  worth  ^200  a  ton.  As  already  stated,  the 
value  of  the  pearls  is  a  secondary  consideration, 
but  although  it  varies  very  greatly  it  is  always 
well  worth  taking  into  account.  The  initial  out- 
lay on  the  purchase,  equipment,  and  provisioning 
of  a  boat  may  be  set  down  at  from  ;i^5oo  to  ^1000, 
and  the  extent  of  the  fishing-grounds  is  so  great 
that,  up  to  the  present,  there  has  been  little  talk 
of  overcrowding. 

Outside  the  pearling  industry,  the  Japanese, 
with  his  womenkind,  is  no  stranger  to  Australia, 
and  the  degraded  lives  of  these  visitors  aflford 
sufiicient  reason  for  the  stern  embargo  now  placed 
upon  them  by  the  authorities. 

The  climate  and  soil  of  the  eastern  slopes  of 
tropical  Queensland  are  well  suited  to  the  culti- 
vation of  the  sugar-cane,  and  the  industry  has 
obtained  so  firm  a  footing  there  that  the  most 
active  controversy  is  still  maintained  concerning 
the  probable  effect  of  the  exclusion  of  Kanaka 
labour.  The  islanders,  both  men  and  women, 
have  in  the  past  been  introduced  from  all  parts 
of  the  South  Seas,  and  have  proved  themselves 
well  fitted  for  the  work  in  the  cane-fields.  The 
methods  employed  to  induce  these  people  to  leave 
their  island  homes  were  carefully  regulated  by 
the  Government,  each  boat  employed  in  the  re- 
cruiting work  being  forced  to  carry  a  Govern- 


2i8  Australian  Life 

ment  agent  The  remuneration  offered  to  the 
labourers,  though  slight  compared  to  the  wages 
required  by  white  men  to  do  the  same  work,  was 
nevertheless  sufl&cient  inducement  to  those  who 
engaged  themselves,  and  in  proof  of  the  state- 
ment that  they  were  usually  well  treated  may  be 
advanced  the  willingness  shown  by  many  of  them 
to  engage  for  a  second  period.  Those  who  re- 
turned to  their  island  homes  usually  laid  out  their 
earnings  in  brightly  coloured  clothes  and  value- 
less fancy  goods,  but  after  a  few  weeks  of  island 
life,  they  were  frequently  very  glad  to  return  to 
the  plantations  again. 

The  work  of  cultivating  the  sugar-cane,  from 
the  propagation  of  the  young  plants  to  the  cutting 
of  the  ripe  cane  for  transport  to  the  mills,  neces- 
sitates hard  physical  labour  in  a  sweltering 
climate.  The  man  who  would  "trash"  the  cane 
must  stand  hidden  in  a  breathless  cane-brake, 
while  he  tears  the  dead  and  d3dng  leaves  from 
the  lower  parts  of  the  stalks.  The  oppressive 
atmosphere  is  laden  with  minute  particles  of  vege- 
table fibre  that  choke  the  throat  and  penetrate 
the  lungs.  This  task,  and  the  still  heavier  work 
of  cane-cutting,  the  Kanaka  undertakes  cheer- 
fully. The  women  also  work  in  the  fields,  hoeing 
the  ground  and  freeing  it  from  the  rank  crop  of 
weeds  that  spring  up  so  rapidly  in  the  moist  heat. 
These  people  live  in  great  wooden  barracks,  and 
their  staple  foods  are  maize  porridge,  molasses, 
and  salt  beef.     Most  of  them  are  Christians,  and 


A  White  Australia  219 

the  visitor  to  a  sugar  plantation  will  carry  away 
a  recollection  of  the  fervour  they  exhibit  in  the 
singing  of  hymns  of  the  Moody  and  Sankey  order. 
Among  the  objections  taken  to  the  measure 
providing  for  the  deportation  of  the  Kanakas  was 
the  possible  danger  to  the  civilised  islander  him- 
self. It  was  contended  that  the  labourers  ran  no 
inconsiderable  risk  of  being  killed  and  eaten  by 
their  savage  island  relatives.  On  this  point,  the 
most  reassuring  testimony  was  obtained  from  the 
missionaries  working  among  the  islands,  than 
whom  no  one  is  more  competent  to  express  an 
opinion.  Some  of  these  gentlemen  entertain  the 
hope  that  the  return  of  the  Queensland  labourers 
will  have  a  good  effect  among  the  islands,  and 
that  some  agricultural  development  will  take 
place,  resulting  in  the  expansion  of  island  pro- 
sperity. In  any  event,  the  Australian  Govern- 
ment has  charged  itself  with  the  responsibility  of 
transferring  the  Kanaka  labourers  to  islands 
where  neither  their  lives  nor  their  prosperity  will 
be  in  any  danger. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

EDUCATION,  LITERATURE,  AND   ART 

THK  Australian  States  charge  themselves  with 
the  primary  education  of  children,  either 
without  expense  to  the  parents  or  for  a  fee  that 
is  purely  nominal.  There  may  be  found  a  few 
private  elementary  schools,  but  it  is  estimated 
that  quite  eighty  per  cent,  of  Australian  children 
attend  the  State  schools.  The  diflBiculties  in  the 
way  of  supplying  the  more  sparsely  populated 
bush  districts  with  schools  and  teachers  can  be 
readily  imagined:  and  they  are  solved,  in  many 
cases,  by  expedients  that  can  only  be  justified  by 
urging  that  any  sort  of  education  is  better  than 
none  at  all.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  find 
a  hardworked  bush  teacher  in  charge  of  two 
schools,  and  holding  classes  in  each  on  alternate 
days  of  the  week.  Kach  school  may  be  attended 
by  from  twenty  to  thirty  pupils,  their  ages 
ranging  from  six  to  sixteen:  and  how  the  teacher 
contrives  to  maintain  order  and  discipline  is  a 
question  he  alone  can  answer.  Many  of  the  bush 
children  live  far  away  from  the  lonely  little 
schoolhouse,  and  have  to  walk  or  ride  long  dis- 


Education,  Literature,  and  Art    221 

tances  in  order  to  attend.  Most  of  these  children 
have  duties  to  perform  at  home  as  well,  both  be- 
fore setting  out  for  school  and  on  their  return 
home  again.  Their  education  is  not  accomplished, 
therefore,  without  a  very  considerable  strain  being 
thrown  upon  both  pupils  and  teachers,  and  for 
that  reason,  perhaps,  it  is  the  more  highly  valued. 
It  is  at  least  certain  that  residents  in  remote  and 
sparsely-settled  districts  make  every  eflfort  to  ob- 
tain schools  in  their  neighbourhood,  and  insist 
upon  the  regular  attendance  of  their  children, 
wherever  possible. 

The  difficulty  with  regard  to  religious  instruc- 
tion is  constantly  occurring  in  connection  with 
the  free  schools  of  Australia.  It  is  a  question 
complicated  by  the  absence  of  a  State  Church  in 
Australia,  and  by  the  fact  that  the  balance  be- 
tween Roman  Catholics,  Episcopalians,  and  other 
Protestant  sects  is  very  even.  In  some  States, 
the  instruction  is  entirely  secular,  and  the  duty 
of  providing  religious  instruction  for  the  children 
is  cast  upon  their  parents.  It  may  be  said,  how- 
ever, that  with  the  view  of  assisting  in  every  way 
towards  the  religious  instruction  of  the  children, 
the  State  places  the  school  buildings  at  the  service 
of  such  religious  instructors  as  may  choose  to  use 
them,  after  school  hours,  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
ligious instruction.  The  scholars  who  wish  to 
attend  may  do  so,  but  those  who  prefer  to  absent 
themselves  are  under  no  compulsion  of  any  kind. 
In  other  States,  religious  instruction  is  included 


2  22  Australian  Life 

in  the  programme  of  education,  the  instruction 
consisting  of  the  reading  aloud  of  chosen  pas- 
sages from  the  Bible  and  works  of  a  moral 
character.  Of  the  two  systems,  the  former  has 
given  the  more  general  satisfaction,  and  in  spite 
of  warm  remonstrances  from  some  of  the  religious 
bodies,  it  seems  unlikely  that  any  alteration  will 
be  made  in  the  free,  compulsory,  and  secular 
educational  system. 

There  is  nothing  exceptional  about  the  course 
of  education  provided,  unless  it  is  the  importance 
attached  to  physical  drill.  All  children  are  drilled, 
but  the  elder  boys  are  attached  to  the  Australian 
military  forces,  by  means  of  the  cadet  corps. 
Almost  every  large  school  has  its  band  of  cadets, 
who  wear  neat  khaki  uniforms  and  are  armed 
with  light  rifles,  in  the  use  of  which  they  are  fre- 
quently instructed.  Every  year,  these  boys  have 
shooting  matches,  and  the  scores  prove  that 
among  the  youngsters  there  are  many  who  have 
already  become  skilled  marksmen.  On  leaving 
school,  the  cadet  can  attach  himself  to  a  corps 
better  suited  to  his  altered  mode  of  life,  and  from 
that  body  may  pass  into  the  Militia  force  without 
having  suflTered  his  military  training  to  fall  into 
neglect.  When  the  Prince  of  Wales  visited  Aus- 
tralia for  the  opening  of  the  Commonwealth 
Parliament,  four  thousand  of  these  cadets  took 
part  in  a  review  held  at  Melbourne.  Foreign 
ofl&cers  from  most  of  the  European  armies  wit- 
nessed the  review,  and  much  as  they  were  struck 


Education,  Literature,  and  Art    223 

by  the  appearance  of  the  citizen  army  of  Aus- 
tralia, the  cadets  moved  them  to  the  greatest 
admiration.  Owing  to  this  practical  system  of 
military  drill,  there  are  few  young  men  in  Aus- 
tralia at  present  who  do  not  know  something  of 
drill  and  the  use  of  the  rifle. 

Secondary  education  is  almost  completely  given 
up  to  private  enterprise,  and  the  result  is  far  from 
being  satisfactory.  The  exclusive  aim  of  many 
Australian  "private  schools  "  is  to  pass  as  many 
scholars  as  possible  at  the  matriculation  examina- 
tion of  the  State  University.  This  examination 
has  a  commercial  value,  for  many  banks,  insur- 
ance offices,  and  similar  institutions  make  it  a 
siiie  qud  non  for  entrance  into  their  services.  The 
proportion  of  matriculated  students  who  after- 
wards attend  University  lectures  is  remarkably 
small,  most  of  them  entering  commercial  life  as 
soon  as  they  matriculate.  The  masters  of  the 
private  schools  have,  therefore,  but  one  end  in 
view,  and  many  and  ingenious  are  the  cramming 
systems  devised  in  order  to  obtain  good  results  at 
the  matriculation.  If  the  advertisements  of  the 
private  schools  may  be  accepted  as  a  guide,  suc- 
cess in  this  direction  is  the  surest  method  of 
obtaining  fresh  pupils. 

Most  of  the  mining  centres  have  schools  of 
mines,  subsidised  by  Government,  where  scientific 
and  technical  education  may  be  obtained  for  very 
moderate  fees.  The  instructors  at  these  mining 
schools  are,  as  a  rule,  very  competent  men,  and 


224  Australian  Life 

the  courses  in  such  subjects  as  assaying  and  min- 
ing engineering  are  of  sterling  practical  worth. 
To  these  schools  Australia  owes  the  very- 
thorough  and  up-to-date  methods  of  mining  in 
practice  on  all  the  more  important  gold-fields. 
Indeed,  education  in  Australia  has  a  basis  that  is 
nothing  if  not  practical  and  commercial.  At  the 
universities,  this  side  is  ever  uppermost,  the  ma- 
jority of  the  students  attending  lectures  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  qualifying  for  professions.  As  far 
as  the  men  students  are  concerned,  this  statement 
has  almost  a  universal  application:  their  object 
is  to  obtain  the  necessary  degree  as  quickly  as 
possible,  and  to  begin  at  once  the  practice  of  some 
profession.  Some  of  the  women  students  who  sit 
in  the  same  lecture-rooms  are  probably  less  com- 
mercial in  their  pursuit  of  knowledge,  and  in 
them  the  professions  find  their  ideal  pupils,  who 
follow  learning  for  learning's  sake  alone.  But  if 
the  Australian  universities  are  hampered  in  their 
aspirations  by  the  practical  and  utilitarian  nature 
of  the  young  community  in  which  they  exist,  it 
must  also  be  said  that  they  make  little  or  no 
effort  to  reach  the  classes  who  might  be  inspired 
by  a  genuine  desire  for  higher  education.  They 
exercise  as  little  influence  as  could  be  expected 
from  conservative  institutions  in  a  democratic 
community,  and  have  become  strangely  out  of 
sympathy  with  Australian  life  and  Australian 
ideals. 

The  Australian  Press  is  an  educational  force 


Education,  Literature,  and  Art    225 

more  closely  in  sympathy  with  the  people.  It 
has  been  said  that  a  people  gets  just  as  good 
newspapers  as  it  deserves,  and  if  that  be  true,  the 
deserts  of  the  Australian  people  must  be  high. 
It  has  to  be  remembered,  however,  that  the  dailies 
and  weeklies  of  the  Commonwealth  are  more  than 
news  sheets  and  political  organs,  since  they  partly 
fill  the  gap  created  by  the  absence  of  any  repre- 
sentative Australian  magazine  or  review.  Each 
of  the  capital  cities  maintains  two  or  more  daily 
papers  comparable  to  any  similar  productions  in 
the  world.  To  preserve  the  mean  between  accu- 
racy, dignity,  and  decorum  on  one  side,  and  dul- 
ness  on  the  other  is  a  task  that  is  yearly  becoming 
more  difficult  to  the  newspaper  editor,  but  it  can 
fairly  be  said  that  the  Australian  daily  papers  are 
neither  dull  nor  unduly  sensational.  For  the 
people  of  the  bush,  weekly  editions  are  prepared, 
containing — in  addition  to  a  resujjii  oi  the.  week's 
news  —  much  useful  matter  pertaining  to  agri- 
cultural and  pastoral  affairs,  lyondon  letters, 
serial  stories  by  the  best  writers,  illustrations  of 
the  events  of  the  week,  and  many  other  features. 
The  arrival  of  these  weekly  budgets  is  an  event 
upon  the  station  or  selection,  and  the  interest  they 
create  furnishes  an  explanation  of  the  fact  that 
the  average  bushman  is  far  from  being  a  rustic, 
but  is  very  often  closer  abreast  of  the  times  than 
the  man  in  the  street.  '^^ 

Even  more  characteristic  of  Australian  life  are 
the   weekly   satirical   and   society    papers,    and 


226  Australian  Life 

among  these  the  BulletiJi  is  by  far  the  ablest  and 
most  influential.  To  describe  the  Bulletiyi  merely 
as  a  satirical  and  society  paper  is  to  do  it  a  very 
grave  injustice.  By  no  mere  tricks  of  satire  and 
news-gathering  can  any  paper  sway  part  of  a 
nation;  and  this,  by  its  deadly  earnestness,  great 
ability,  and  ferocious  plain  speech,  the  Bulletin 
has  continued  to  do  for  many  years.  The  most 
talented  artists  and  the  brightest  writers  of  all 
Australia  are  in  its  service,  and  nowhere  in  the 
world  is  a  political  situation  better  expressed  in 
a  clever  cartoon,  or  a  newly  proposed  legislative 
measure  more  ably  reduced,  in  a  small  space,  to 
perfect  lucidity  and  simplicity.  It  is  not  con- 
tended for  one  moment  that  the  whole  policy  of 
the  Bidletin  commends  itself  to  one  half  of  its 
regular  readers,  for  it  frankly  advocates  the  inde- 
pendence of  Australia  under  a  republican  form  of 
government.  But  the  Australian  who  is  content 
with  things  as  they  are,  or  even  desires  some 
closer  connection  with  the  Motherland,  cannot 
afford  to  do  without  his  Bulletin  for  this  reason. 
For  the  paper  is  at  once  the  most  interesting 
chronicler  of  Australian  matters,  and  the  most 
trustworthy  guide  in  Commonwealth  affairs. 
Other  papers  have,  unfortunately,  strong  provin- 
cial leaning,  but  the  Bulleti?i  steadfastly  sets  the 
national  question  before  all  others,  and  so  com- 
mands the  respect  and  admiration  of  the  many 
nationalists  among  the  young  Australians. 

The  Bidletiji  renders  a  further  service  to  Aus- 


Education,  Literature,  and  Art    227 

tralia  in  its  sympathetic  encouragement  of 
Australian  literature  and  art.  "There  is  no 
Australian  literature,"  wrote  the  editor  of  a  seri- 
ous London  review  to  an  Australian  writer  who 
offered  him  an  article  upon  that  subject.  This  is 
a  hard  saying,  and  of  its  truth  or  otherwise  it 
would  be  useless  to  contend.  It  is  certain  that 
the  path  of  literature,  rough  and  painful  as  it  is 
to  the  beginner  in  any  land,  bristles  in  Australia 
with  obstacles  that  will  disappear  when  the 
country  is  older. 

Reference  has  been  already  made  to  the 
absence  of  any  notable  Australian  magazine  or 
review.  Numbers  of  such  publications  have  been 
launched,  and  none  have  failed  for  want  of 
writers  of  ability,  or  subjects  of  importance  or 
interest.  Their  failure  has  been  a  financial  one, 
and  due,  in  the  first  place,  to  the  expense  of 
printing  and  publication  where  wages  are  high, 
materials  are  dear,  and  the  circle  of  appreciative 
readers  is  small.  Such  publications  have  had  to 
compete  with  the  magazines  and  reviews  of  Eng- 
land and  America,  produced  under  circumstances 
vastly  more  favourable  to  cheapness  and  adver- 
tising support.  One  after  another  they  have 
dwindled  and  died.  The  Australian  publishing 
firms  have  contended  with  the  same  adverse 
circumstances,  heightened  by  the  fact  that  the 
Australian  market  is  flooded  by  cheap  "colonial" 
editions  of  the  newest  books  published  in  London. 
Thus  for  three  and  sixpence  one  may  buy  in  Aus- 


2  28  Australian  Life 

tralia  a  copy  of  one  of  Kipling's  volumes  of  poems, 
the  cheapest  edition  of  which  costs  six  shillings 
in  London.  The  Australian  belief  in  protecting 
local  industries  has  not  yet  reached  the  stage  of  a 
scheme  to  encourage  the  Australian  author  and 
publisher,  and  at  the  present  time  the  author 
finds  the  easiest  and  most  profitable  method  of 
publication  in  London.  To  this  Mecca  many 
Australians  of  promise  have  gone,  in  time  to  lose 
touch  with  Australia,  and  to  devote  themselves 
to  subjects  of  closer  interest  to  the  wider  public 
they  address. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  Bulletin,  the  history  of 
the  last  fifteen  years  would  certainly  have  con- 
firmed the  dictum  of  the  London  editor.  The 
pages  of  the  Bulletin  have  always  been  open  to 
writers  of  Australian  verse  or  prose  stories  or 
sketches  of  moderate  length. 

Literary  ability  and  the  Australian  interest  are 
the  two  essentials  for  publication  in  the  Bulletin, 
and  verse  and  story  alike  have  to  be  racy  of  the 
soil.  The  Bulletin  writers  have  chosen  for  their 
theme  the  varied  aspects  of  bush  life — the  life  of 
the  shearing-shed  and  the  cattle  camp,  the  race- 
course, the  mines,  and  the  bush  track.  The 
works  of  the  more  popular  of  these  writers  have 
been  collected  and  published  in  book  form,  and 
are  now  familiar  in  town  and  country  alike. 
Henry  Lawson,  A.  B.  Paterson,  Edward  Dyson, 
Barcroft  Boake,  Victor  Daley,  Will  Ogilvie, 
Roderick  Quinn,  and  a  number  of  others  bear 


Education,  Literature,  and  Art    229 

names  as  well  known  in  the  bush  as  those  of  the 
standard  English  poets.  Their  influence  in  the 
main  is  invigorating,  as  any  influence  must  be 
that  tends  to  make  the  Australian  more  keenly- 
alive  to  the  interests  and  beauty  of  the  land  he 
lives  in.  This  school  of  Australian  literature 
succeeds  an  earlier  group  of  writers  whose  names 
are  more  familiar  to  British  readers.  Chief  among 
them  were  Adam  Lindsay  Gordon,  Henry  Ken- 
dall, Marcus  Clarke,  "Orion"  Home,  and  J. 
Brunton  Stephens,  all  of  whom  are  now  dead. 

The  Australian  theatre  is  almost  an  exact 
counterpart  of  the  theatre  in  Great  Britain.  The 
buildings  are  designed  on  the  same  lines,  with 
but  little  regard  for  the  coolness  and  ventilation 
necessary  in  such  a  climate,  and  one  may  see,  as 
in  the  English  provinces,  the  latest  London  suc- 
cess, enacted  by  a  company  of  London  players. 
Save  for  a  few  melodramas,  and  dramatic  ver- 
sions of  well-known  Australian  novels,  such  as 
Robbery  U^ider  Arms,  or  His  Natural  Life,  the 
Australian  drama  does  not  yet  exist.  There  are 
music-halls,  but,  robbed  of  their  attractions  in  the 
shape  of  permission  to  smoke  and  consume  alco- 
holic liquor  on  the  premises,  they  do  not  enter 
into  so  keen  a  rivalry  with  the  legitimate  theatre 
as  in  other  countries.  The  taste  for  light  opera 
and  musical  comedy,  so  marked  a  development 
in  the  theatrical  preference  of  Great  Britain  and 
America  during  recent  years,  is  even  more 
noticeable  in  Australia,  where  grand  opera  is  also 


230  Australian  Life 

popular  among  the  people.  The  universal  love 
of  music  which  makes  this  possible  is  also 
accountable  for  the  frequency  and  the  success  of 
ballad  concerts,  and  these,  rather  than  the  music- 
halls,  are  the  rivals  which  the  theatrical  manager 
has  to  fear. 

The  Australian  artist  complains,  with  good 
reason,  of  the  discouraging  conditions  in  which 
he  works.  Large  sums  have  been  spent  in  the 
foundation  of  public  art  galleries,  but  a  mere 
driblet  of  this  money  has  been  devoted  to  locally 
painted  canvases.  In  connection  with  some  of 
these  galleries,  a  fund  exists  for  providing  young 
artists  of  promise  with  the  means  of  study  in 
Europe,  and  the  expenditure  of  this  money  has 
almost  an  invariable  result.  Having  once  come 
into  touch  with  the  world's  art  centres,  the  artist 
does  not  find  it  easy  to  return  to  the  practical  and 
commercial  world  of  Australia,  so  that,  up  to  the 
present,  these  travelling  scholarships  have  done 
more  for  Australian  artists  than  for  Australian 
art. 

At  present,  London  proves  an  irresistible  mag- 
net for  Australians  following  the  artistic  pro- 
fessions, and  it  will  be  many  years  before  this 
migration  can  be  expected  to  cease.  Even  if  the 
Australian  community  were  less  commercial  and 
more  artistic,  London  would  still  offer  a  wider 
sphere  and  more  congenial  surroundings,  as  well 
as  larger  rewards.  It  is  not  in  Australia,  then, 
but    in   Loudon    that    the    successful    painters, 


Education,  Literature,  and  Art  231 

singers,  authors,  and  actors  expect  to  crown  their 
careers,  and  so  long  as  this  remains  true,  the 
growth  of  art  that  is  distinctively  Australian 
must  necessarily  be  slow. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

NATIONAI,  LIFE   IN  AUSTRALIA 

THE  average  Briton  has  always  been  content 
to  class  Queenslanders  and  Tasmanians 
alike  as  Australians,  and  more  loosely  to  include 
even  a  New  Zealander  in  the  same  description, 
owing  to  a  natural  confusion  of  the  words  Aus- 
tralia and  Australasia.  He,  therefore,  finds  ex- 
treme difficulty  in  grasping  the  distinctions  that 
grew  up  in  Australia  with  the  granting  of  sepa- 
rate constitutions  to  the  various  states,  and  the 
consequent  checks  experienced  by  the  statesmen 
who  undertook  the  task  of  welding  them  into  a 
Commonwealth.  Even  to  indicate  the  whole  of 
these  distinctions  would  be  a  noteworthy  task, 
but  a  significant  feature  of  them  was  the  tariff 
retaliation  brought  about  by  differences  in  fiscal 
policy.  How  far  these  differences  injured  the 
progress  of  Australia  was  conclusively  shown  in 
the  first  three  years  of  the  existence  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, by  the  expansion  of  inter-state  trade 
following  the  removal  of  the  customs  barriers. 

Instances    of   rivalry    between    neighbouring 
communities  of  the  same  race  are  not  uncommon 
232 


National  Life  in  Australia     233 

in  the  history  of  the  world,  but  Australia  has 
furnished  a  unique  example  of  the  length  to  which 
these  unreasoning  jealousies  can  be  carried.  L,est 
the  products  of  one  division  of  a  State  should  find 
their  natural  outlet  at  the  seaport  of  a  neighbour, 
the  construction  of  a  long  and  expensive  railway 
would  be  undertaken,  and  an  annual  loss  incurred 
in  its  working  and  maintenance.  Indeed,  the 
railways  of  Australia  remain  as  a  standing  illus- 
tration of  the  injurious  results  of  this  provincial- 
ism. The  traveller  from  New  South  Wales  to 
Victoria  must  leave  his  train  on  the  border  line, 
and  enter  another,  because  the  railway  lines  of 
the  two  states  have  different  gauges.  Another 
break  of  gauge  occurs  at  the  boundary  between 
Victoria  and  South  Australia;  and  as  a  result  of 
this  failure  in  co-operation,  a  huge  sum  will  have 
to  be  spent  at  some  time  in  standardising  the 
railway  gauges.  If  a  reason  be  sought  for  the 
neglect  in  conserving  the  waters  of  the  river 
Murray  for  purposes  of  irrigation,  it  will  be  found 
in  the  fact  that  this  river,  the  most  important  in 
all  Australia,  forms  the  boundary  between  two 
states,  and  finds  its  outlet  in  a  third.  Instances 
could  be  multiplied  to  show  how  state  jealousies 
have  retarded  Australian  progress. 

In  the  days  when  this  provincialism  was  at  its 
worst,  there  nevertheless  existed  aspirations  for  a 
wider  national  life.  Societies  were  formed  with 
the  object  of  fostering  a  national  spirit,  and  one 
of  these  organisations  exercises  no  small  influence 


234  Australian  Life 

upon  the  everyday  life  of  Australia  at  the  present 
time.  The  Australian  Natives'  Association  was 
founded  at  a  time  when  British  statesmen  re- 
garded the  Colonies  as  a  burden,  and  the  word 
"colonial"  was  employed  as  conveying  a  meaning 
of  inferiority.  Even  in  Australia,  where  the 
proportion  of  British-born  folk  was  then  greater 
than  at  present,  colonial  wines,  colonial  boots, 
and  colonial  customs  were  openly  despised. 

To  combat  this  tendency  to  undervalue  Aus- 
tralian things,  a  number  of  young  men,  who  were 
proud  of  their  Australian  birth,  formed  the  Aus- 
tralian Natives'  Association.  Among  them  were 
Sir  George  Turner,  Treasurer  in  the  first  Com- 
monwealth Ministry,  Mr.  J.  L,.  Purves,  leader  of 
the  Melbourne  Bar,  and  a  number  of  others 
afterwards  prominent  in  Australian  political  and 
professional  life.  The  avowed  object  of  the  asso- 
ciation was  to  make  the  native-born  Australian 
proud  of  his  country,  and  to  encourage  Australian 
manufactures,  Australian  art,  Australian  litera- 
ture, and  everything  else  Australian. 

Each  branch  of  the  Association  combines  the 
functions  of  a  benefit  lodge  with  those  of  a  debat- 
ing society.  Meetings  are  arranged  at  regular 
intervals,  when  the  members  first  transact  the 
business  of  the  branch  and  then  discuss  some 
chosen  subject,  usually  Australian  in  interest. 
Every  member  who  shares  the  benefit  system  of 
the  Association  pays  a  weekly  levy,  amounting 
to  a  little  more  than  a  shilling.     This  assures 


National  Life  in  Australia     235 

him  medical  attendance  and  medicine  when  sick- 
ness comes  into  his  house,  a  weekly  allowance, 
should  he  himself  be  prevented  from  attending 
to  his  business  by  illness,  and  a  provision  for  his 
fitting  burial  after  death.  This  sick  and  funeral 
fund  represents  the  business  side  of  the  Australian 
Natives'  Association,  and  is  really  responsible  for 
the  continuance  of  its  growth,  and  the  extension 
of  its  influence. 

There  comes  a  time  in  the  history  of  many  such 
associations  when  enthusiasm  dwindles,  and  sen- 
timental or  political  discussions  no  longer  draw 
crowds  of  eager  debaters.  Then  the  rent  of  halls, 
and  the  very  cost  of  postage  and  stationery 
becomes  too  heavy  a  tax  on  the  remainder,  if 
remainder  there  be.  All  over  the  world,  how 
man}'  societies  were  founded  for  national  or  edu- 
cational purposes,  which  enjoyed  for  a  time  more 
or  less  influence  on  public  afiairs,  and  then  passed 
away  ! 

But  the  Australian  Natives'  Association, 
though  interest  in  public  affairs  may  flag,  can 
never  die.  Its  halls  are  hired,  its  postage  paid 
by  the  business  department.  In  every  locality 
where  a  branch  is  established,  it  begins  to  ac- 
cumulate wealth.  Twelve  or  fifteen  pence  per 
week,  from  perhaps  twenty  members,  soon  mounts 
up,  and  those  twenty  members  do  not  fail  to  keep 
up  their  payments  merely  because  they  have  be- 
come tired  of  aflSrming  that  "this  branch  resents 
the  interference  of  France  in  the  New  Hebrides." 


236  Australian  Life 

The  weekly  levies  are  funded  according  to  an 
act  known  as  the  Friendly  Societies  Act,  a 
portion  being  available  for  manageraent.  From 
this  portion,  a  fee — not  extravagant,  but  still  a 
fee — is  set  aside  for  the  secretary,  and  this  stipend 
some  pushing  young  man  is  glad  to  earn  by  a  few 
hours'  night  work  each  week.  So,  when  the  Aus- 
tralian Natives'  Association  wakes  up  to  the  im- 
portance of  some  national  question,  it  finds  the  hall 
open  and  lighted,  and  its  stipendiary  secretary 
waiting  to  receive  the  orations  of  young  Australia. 
Many  of  the  branches  become  the  possessors  of 
a  few  hundreds  of  trust  moneys,  which  they  invest 
in  local  property.  The  management  of  these 
funds,  and  of  the  property,  afibrds  congenial 
occupation  to  a  few,  and  it  generally  happens 
that  the  secretary  is  not  entirely  alone  when  the 
orators  of  young  Australia  arrive.  Each  branch 
sends  two  delegates  to  an  annual  conference,  at 
which  a  board  of  directors  and  a  president  are 
elected.  This  conference  is  the  parliament  of  the 
association,  and  the  young  men  with  political 
aspirations  contrive  to  be  chosen  as  delegates. 
Its  agenda  is  a  pamphlet,  the  president's  address 
is  a  volume,  and  the  debates  would,  if  published, 
fill  an  ordinary  library  shelf.  It  is  not  all  empty 
talk,  for  the  professional  Australian  native,  in  the 
main,  is  a  practical  and  sensible  person.  He  is 
certainly  a  person  to  be  reckoned  with,  just  as 
the  association  to  which  he  belongs  is  a  force  in 
Australian   affairs.      Delegate  to  the  conference 


National  Life  in  Australia     237 

to-day,  the  year  after  next  he  may  easily  be  a 
Cabinet  Minister. 

The  intending  member  must  declare  that  he 
was  born  in  Australia,  or  at  sea  e7i  route  to  Aus- 
tralia. The  association  has  frequently  been 
assailed  because  it  rigidly  excludes  all  persons 
born  in  other  lands.  "I  came  here  of  my  own 
free  will,"  declared  one  who  had  been  pronounced 
without  the  pale.  "Am  I  not  therefore  a  better 
lover  of  the  country?  I  came  by  choice,  not  by 
accident  of  birth."  To  which  a  prominent 
"native"  replied:  "The  prophet  of  old  wor- 
shipped with  his  windows  open  towards  Jeru- 
salem, and  in  Australia,  when  English,  Scotch, 
and  Irish  folk  speak  of  'home,'  they  mean  some 
part  of  the  United  Kingdom.  They  worship  with 
their  windows  open  toward  Jerusalem." 

The  Australian  Natives'  Association  method 
of  fostering  a  national  spirit  is  therefore  to  deal 
at  first  hand  with  the  native-born,  who  have  no 
mental  or  emotional  reservations  in  favour  of 
some  green  land  across  the  sea.  The  title  of  the 
organisation  is  so  confusing  that  at  least  one 
historian  of  Australia,  writing  from  his  chair  in 
the  British  Museum,  allowed  himself  to  comment 
upon  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Australian  aborigines 
in  the  cause  of  Australian  unity.  He  was  so  far 
right  that  the  membership  of  the  association  is 
not  denied  to  the  autochthonous  Australian,  but 
diligent  inquiry  has  failed  to  procure  evidence  of 
even  one  aboriginal  member. 


238  Australian  Life 

The  founders  of  the  society  had  another  reason 
for  confining  its  membership  to  those  of  native 
birth.  It  is  an  excellent  reason  from  a  business 
point  of  view,  and  has  to  do  with  the  sick  and 
funeral  fund.  In  a  country  newly  settled,  the 
native  born  are  all  young,  with  the  prospect  of 
long  and  healthy  lives  before  them.  This  was 
the  case  with  Australia  when  the  Australian 
Natives'  Association  was  founded.  Its  members 
were  recruited  from  among  the  hale  youths  of 
the  first  generation  of  the  Victorian  born,  the  best 
possible  constituency  for  a  benefit  society.  The 
men  who  wanted  to  build  up  a  sound  and  sub- 
stantial funeral  fund  displayed  astuteness  in 
passing  by  the  elder  men  born  in  Great  Britain, 
who  were  not  only  less  whole-souled  in  their 
allegiance  to  Australian  ideals,  but  less  eligible  as 
benefit  members. 

Among  the  functions  of  the  association  is  the 
celebration  of  the  Australian  national  holiday. 
This  is  Anniversary  Day,  the  commemoration  of 
the  landing  of  Captain  Phillip  on  January  26, 
1788.  Accordingly,  the  Australian  Natives' 
Association  holds  its  annual  fete  on  each  26th  of 
January.  Prizes  are  offered  in  all  departments 
of  art,  literature,  and  athletics.  The  budding 
singers,  musicians,  and  artists  of  Australia  com- 
pete in  one  part  of  the  Melbourne  Exhibition 
Building,  while  foot  and  cycle  races  are  going 
on  in  the  arena  outside.  There  are  prizes  for 
reciting,  prizes  for  debating,  and  prizes  for  liter- 


National  Life  in  Australia     239 

ary  composition,  in  prose  and  verse.  The  organ- 
isation of  this  annual  celebration  is  carried  out 
in  the  practical  and  effective  manner  that  char- 
acterises the  whole  management  of  the  society, 
and  certainly  points  to  considerable  business 
ability  among  its  controllers. 

Many  of  the  branches  reproduce  this  fSte  on  a 
smaller  scale,  especially  those  existing  in  country 
towns  of  the  second  rank.  In  such  places,  the 
association  is  a  centre  of  social  activity,  holding 
debates,  concerts,  dances,  and  other  functions, 
contributing  largely  to  the  amusements  of  the 
little  community.  The  chief  of  these  functions 
is  undoubtedly  the  competition,  which  interests 
the  parents  and  friends  who  form  the  audience, 
as  well  as  the  young  people  who  take  part  in  it. 
Beginning  in  a  modest  way  in  Melbourne  this 
association  has  now  extended  its  influence 
throughout  Australia,  although  its  chief  strong- 
hold is  still  in  the  State  of  Victoria.  Its  member- 
ship is  open  to  both  sexes,  and  while  officially 
denying  partisanship  with  any  creed  or  party,  the 
association  itself  has  become  at  once  a  creed  and 
a  party.  When  the  proper  time  came,  it  was 
able  to  render  assistance  to  the  cause  of  Austral- 
ian unity,  a  cause  reflecting  the  very  spirit  of  the 
founders  of  the  society. 

The  most  serious  obstacle  to  Australian  unity 
was  the  state  rivalry  already  referred  to,  and  this 
was  only  overcome  by  the  expedient  of  referring 
the  question  to  the  people  for  settlement.     The 


240  Australian  Life 

result  of  the  popular  referendum  showed  that  a 
large  majority  of  Australians  were  in  favour  of 
federation,  although  the  minority  in  opposition 
cannot  be  described  as  negligible.  Serious 
difl&culties  in  the  way  of  a  complete  federation 
were  found  in  the  differences  in  the  development 
of  the  separate  states :  some  had  borrowed  more 
freely  than  others,  some  had  parted  with  a  larger 
proportion  of  the  State  lands,  or  had  exploited 
their  mineral  wealth  more  fully,  and,  finally,  the 
states  with  small  populations  were  in  fear  of  being 
dominated  by  those  more  populous.  For  these 
reasons,  the  Federal  Constitution  defines  the 
functions  of  the  Commonwealth  Parliament  in 
detail,  and  expressly  declares  that  all  other 
functions  belong  to  the  State  Legislatures.  By 
amending  the  Constitution,  the  Commonwealth 
Parliament  is  able  to  increase  the  functions  it  at 
present  exercises,  and  so  to  diminish  the  func- 
tions of  the  State  Parliaments. 

This  is  not  very  interesting,  perhaps,  but  it 
has  to  be  understood  if  the  change  in  Australian 
life  wrought  by  the  federation  is  to  be  appre- 
ciated at  all.  The  State  Parliaments  still  exist, 
and  still  retain  most  important  functions.  The 
number  of  members  in  each  State  Assembly  is 
disproportionately  large,  although  reductions 
have  been  made  in  most  State  Legislatures  since 
the  accomplishment  of  federation.  The  member 
of  a  State  Assembly  may  represent  but  a  few 
hundred  voters,  spread  over  a  sparsely  populated 


National  Life  in  Australia     241 

district,  with  insatiable  requirements  in  the 
matter  of  bridges,  schools,  and  post-offices.  His 
constituents  are  continually  urging  these  require- 
ments upon  him,  and  it  too  often  happens  that 
the  State  member  considers  his  electorate  first, 
and  the  interests  of  Australia  last. 

The  Commonwealth  House  of  Representatives 
aflfords  a  striking  contrast.  It  contains  fewer 
members  than  the  Legislative  Assembly  of  New 
South  Wales,  but  some  of  these  members  repre- 
sent electorates  larger  in  area  than  the  United 
Kingdom,  since  the  number  of  representatives 
returned  by  each  state  is  proportionate  to  its  popu- 
lation. Thus  Western  Australia,  with  an  area  of 
nine  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  square 
miles,  returns  only  five  members  to  the  House  of 
Representatives;  while  Victoria,  eighty-eight 
thousand  miles  in  extent,  returns  twenty-three. 
The  Senate,  on  the  other  hand,  contains  an  equal 
number  of  members  from  each  state,  and  serves 
to  guard  the  less  populous  states  from  being 
overruled  by  those  older  and  more  powerful. 
From  the  very  outset,  the  meeting  and  delibera- 
tions of  this  Parliament  had  the  anticipated  effect 
of  broadening  the  Australian  outlook.  For 
the  first  time,  the  requirements  of  tropical  Aus- 
tralia were  considered  in  conjunction  with  those 
of  the  temperate  South;  East  was  balanced 
against  West;  and  young  Australia  realised  with 
a    gasp    how    vast    were     the    considerations 

affecting  national  life.     It    was    a   heavy    blow 
16 


242  Australian  Life 

directed  at   provincialism,    but  provincialism  is 
dying  hard. 

A  striking  example  of  the  conflict  between 
national  and  state  interests  is  afforded  in  the  ques- 
tion of  fixing  the  site  of  the  proposed  Australian 
capital  —  a  question  still  unsettled  at  the  time 
these  words  were  written.  The  proposal  to  build 
a  new  capital  city  in  one  of  the  most  favoured 
parts  of  Australia  was  welcomed  by  all,  both  as 
a  means  of  compromise  between  the  rival  claims 
of  Sydney  and  Melbourne,  and  because  it  would 
create  a  national  centre  apart  from  the  influence 
of  any  State  section.  It  was,  therefore,  provided 
that  a  site  should  be  chosen  in  the  State  of  New 
South  Wales,  at  least  a  hundred  miles  from 
Sydney,  and  with  a  minimum  area  of  one  hund- 
red square  miles,  for  the  creation  of  a  Com- 
monwealth capital.  When  the  question  of 
determining  the  site  came  before  the  House  of 
Representatives,  the  members  representing  the 
State  of  New  South  Wales  made  an  endeavour  to 
have  a  place  called  L^yndhurst,  one  hundred 
miles  north  of  Sydney,  chosen  for  the  capital. 
The  attempt  failed,  and  selection  was  narrowed 
down  to  two  places  both  equidistant  from  Mel- 
bourne and  Sydney.  One  of  these  is  Tumut,  on 
an  elevated  plateau  inland;  the  other  Bombala, 
near  the  coast  and  communicating  with  the  sea- 
port of  Eden,  on  Twofold  Bay.  In  the  House 
of  Representatives,  where  the  vote  of  the  New 
South  Wales  and  Victorian  delegates  preponder- 


National  Life  in  Australia     243 

ates,  the  choice  fell  upon  Tumut,  possibly  from 
the  fear  of  creating  at  Eden  a  rival  port  to  Sydney 
and  Melbourne,  When  this  choice  was  referred 
to  the  Senate  for  approval,  Bombala  was  at  once 
substituted  for  Tumut,  the  explanation  being 
that  the  less  populous  and  more  distant  states 
naturally  wished  the  capital  to  be  near  a  seaport 
town,  and  were  able  to  give  effect  to  their  wishes 
in  the  Chamber  where  all  states  have  equal  re- 
presentation. Parliament  was  soon  afterwards 
dissolved  without  the  dispute  having  been  settled, 
but  the  incident  is  recounted  here  as  showing  how 
the  old  State  rivalries  still  afifect  national  ques- 
tions, and  also  the  safeguard  to  the  less  powerful 
states  constituted  by  the  Senate, 

The  creation  of  a  Federal  capital,  where  no 
State  influence  is  paramount,  suggests  fresh  pos- 
sibilities to  the  Australian,  and  especially  to  the 
Australian  of  the  bush,  who  lias  been  for  so  long 
ruled  for  the  benefit  of  the  capital  of  his  state. 
The  idea  of  an  undertaking  entered  upon,  not 
for  the  good  of  Brisbane,  or  Sydney,  or  Adelaide, 
but  for  the  good  of  Australia,  is  a  new  one,  but 
it  is  none  the  less  pleasant.  Perth,  the  capital 
of  Western  Australia,  has  no  railway  commun- 
ication with  the  Eastern  States.  The  people  of 
Western  Australia  might  build  a  line,  reaching 
to  the  border  line  of  South  Australia,  without  in 
any  way  ameliorating  their  isolated  position. 
South  Australia  is  intent  upon  a  line  connecting 
Adelaide  on  its  southern  coast  with  Palmerston 


244  Australian  Life 

in  the  north,  and  in  the  meantime  is  unwilling 
to  extend  railway  communication  westward  and 
join  hands  with  its  neighbour  there.  Before  the 
Federation  it  would  not  have  been  possible  to 
move  the  South  Australians  from  their  position, 
but  the  question  has  now  become  one  to  be  decided 
on  its  national  merits  by  the  national  Parliament. 
The  provincialists  in  Australia  have  watched 
the  growing  prestige  of  the  Commonwealth  I,egis- 
lature  with  dismay.  In  the  third  year  of  the 
Commonwealth,  motions  were  tabled  in  some  of 
the  State  Parliaments  aflSrming  the  desirability  of 
secession,  and  were  promptly  laughed  into  obliv- 
ion. Enthusiastic  gentlemen  who  have  organised 
secession  movements  in  the  capital  cities  have 
been  regarded  in  the  light  of  amiable  farceurs.  It 
has  now  become  certain  that  the  aspiration  after 
national  life  was  no  momentary  enthusiasm  of 
the  Australian  people  but  a  deep-rooted  senti- 
ment, and  it  is  to  the  national  Parliament  that 
the  Australians  look  to  free  them  from  the  finan- 
cial embarrassment  resulting  from  many  years  of 
State  maladministration. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    AUSTRAI^IAN 

SOME  time  ago  a  lyondon  paper  published,  as 
a  seasonable  supplement,  a  coloured  picture 
entitled  Christmas  in  Australia.  It  represented  a 
bearded  man  in  red  flannel  shirt,  and  top-boots, 
sitting  alone  in  a  log-hut,  grasping  a  large  packet 
of  letters.  His  eyes  were  closed  and  he  was 
dreaming.  I^est  this  fact  should  not  be  suf- 
ficiently obvious,  one  corner  of  the  picture  was 
given  up  to  the  representation  of  his  dream.  It 
was  the  home  of  his  boyhood :  outside,  the  snow 
was  thick  upon  the  ground,  but  within,  the 
family  circle  was  gathered  around  the  cheerful 
fire.  Venerable  parents,  golden-haired  daughters, 
and  manly  sons  were  effectively  grouped,  but  one 
vacant  chair  marked  the  fact  that  the  family  exile 
was  not  forgotten. 

It  is  not  the  fault  of  the  average  Briton  that 
the  man  in  the  red  shirt  represents  his  conception 
of  the  Australian  to-day.  The  globe-trotter  is 
not  alone  responsible  for  the  notion  that  the 
people  of  Australia  are  "more  English  than  the 
English,"  and  that  native-born  Australians,  who 
245 


246  Australian  Life 

have  never  seen  the  British  Islands,  are  never- 
theless accustomed  to  speak  of  them  as  "home." 
The  impression  is  confirmed  by  many  of  the 
Australians  who  visit  England,  and  especially  by 
the  Australian  politician  whose  eloquence  is  in- 
spired by  the  theme  of  colonial  loyalty,  and  the 
absentee  landlord  who  spends  in  I^ondon  the 
income  derived  from  his  Australian  possessions. 
These  people  are  largely  responsible  for  the  fic- 
tion of  the  "colonist"  whose  interests,  as  well  as 
his  allegiance,  are  altogether  in  the  keeping  of 
the  Motherland. 

The  real  Australian  is  no  unwilling  exile. 
The  day  is  not  far  distant  when  an  Australian 
paper  will  publish  a  companion  picture  entitled 
Christmas  in  England.  It  will  show  a  tall,  lean, 
clean-shaven  man,  correctly  and  uncomfortably 
clad,  cowering  over  a  dull  fire  in  a  Bloomsbury 
boarding-house.  It  is  midday,  though  the  gas  is 
lighted,  and  he  has  just  discovered  by  a  visit  to 
the  street  door  that  there  is  an  inch  of  slush  on 
the  pavement,  and  that  fog  prevents  his  seeing 
across  the  narrow  street.  So  the  Australian  falls 
a-dreaming.  His  first  dream — for  he  has  many 
— is  of  a  tree-dotted  plain,  warm  with  joyous  sun- 
light. So  far  away  as  the  eye  can  carry  through 
the  pure  clear  air,  the  skyline  ends  the  day  in  a 
low  blue  rampart  of  hills;  but  his  imagination 
ranges  far  beyond  those  to  the  very  centre  of  the 
vast  unknown  continent  that  is  his  birthright. 
Yes,  and  though  the  dreamer  see  as  many  visions 


The  Australian  247 

as  the  goblins  showed  to  Gabriel  Grub,  not  one 
of  them  but  shall  concern  his  own  Australia. 

There  is  nothing  in  this  Australian  attitude 
that  is  inconsistent  with  the  loyalty  to  Imperial 
ideals  that  Australia  has  proved  by  more  than 
mere  words.  The  most  aggressively  Australian 
paper  in  the  whole  continent  is  careful  to  explain 
that  it  is  not  anti-British,  but  only  pro-Aus- 
tralian. The  ordinary  Australian  finds  it  easy 
enough  to  be  pro-British  and  pro-Australian  at 
one  and  the  same  time.  From  the  Imperial  as 
well  as  the  Australian  point  of  view,  this  is  a 
distinct  advance  upon  the  days  when  it  was  cor- 
rect for  Australians  to  be  pro-British  only,  and 
to  disparage  all  the  things  that  they  termed 
"colonial."  The  reaction  was  inevitable  in 
time,  but  it  has  come  about  without  any  weaken- 
ing of  the  race  sentiment  that  is  the  strongest  tie 
between  the  Colonies  and  the  Motherland.  This 
desirable  consummation  speaks  eloquently  of  the 
wisdom  and  sagacity  of  Imperial  administration, 
as  well  as  the  common-sense  that  is  so  strong  a 
characteristic  of  the  Australian. 

The  seasons,  the  climate,  and  the  fauna  and 
flora  of  Australia  are  all  united  in  one  conspiracy 
against  the  Australian  remaining  "more  English 
than  the  English."  I  can  still  remember  that 
the  most  pronounced  efiect  of  the  British  books 
and  poetry  I  read  when  at  school  was  to  convince 
me  of  the  unreality  of  literature.  ' '  Chill  October' ' 
was  to  me  the  gladdest  month  of  the  year,  when 


248  Australian  Life 

the  bush  was  flecked  with  light  and  deep  yellow, 
and  the  aromatic  air  was  fragrant  with  all  wood- 
land smells.  Even  in  the  city  streets,  the  groves 
of  eucalyptus  trees  were  swarming  with  honey- 
questing  parrakeets,  that  flashed  screaming  from 
one  blossom-laden  tree  to  another  like  living 
jewels.  Why,  then,  did  the  poet  write  so  sadly 
of  chill  Qptober  ? 

Tom  Brown' s  Schooldays  was  more  interesting, 
but  those  schoolboy  heroes  played  football  with  a 
brazen  disregard  of  all  rules,  as  we  knew  the 
game.  (Later  on,  I  found  it  diflScult  to  reconcile 
an  acquaintance  with  the  history  of  Rome. 
Greece,  and  England  with  my  total  ignorance  of 
the  history  of  my  native  country.)  All  reading, 
all  learning,  had  to  be  accompanied  with  a  set  of 
mental  adjustments.  If  the  native-born  Austral- 
ian is  to  be  accused  of  scepticism  and  irreverence,  it 
must  be  said  in  his  behalf  that  he  was  accustomed 
from  his  childhood  upwards  to  read  and  be  taught 
things  that,  in  the  circumstances,  were  mislead- 
ing, and  untrue.  Teaching  is  better  now,  and 
text-books  are  specially  prepared  for  the  Aus- 
tralian schools.  The  children  so  educated  are 
the  less  likely  to  speak  of  Great  Britain  as 
"home." 

More  than  eighty  per  cent,  of  the  present  in- 
habitants of  Australia  were  born  there,  and  very 
few  of  these  can  expect  to  have  the  opportunity 
of  making  the  twelve  thousand  mile  journey  to 
the  Motherland.     Not  only  is  Australia  far  dis- 


The  Australian  249 

tant  from  the  centre  of  Empire,  but  it  occupies 
the  most  isolated  position  among  all  the  con- 
tinents. As  a  result  of  this  isolation,  the  Aus- 
tralian has  a  tendency  to  become  too  completely- 
engrossed  in  local  affairs.  The  Australian  Press, 
more  cosmopolitan  than  the  Australian  people, 
devotes  a  large  amount  of  space  to  the  outside 
world,  and  still  contrives  to  leaven  the  self- 
absorption  of  the  Australian.  But  the  pride  and 
patriotism  of  the  native-born  have  been  focussed 
by  the  last  step  taken,  when  provincialism  was 
renounced  for  a  national  life.  He  is  now  inclined 
to  think  so  well  of  his  birthplace  that  he  plans 
to  keep  it  entirely  to  himself,  and  raises  a  cry  of 
"Australia  for  the  Australians,"  not  "Australia 
for  the  white  man,"  nor  "Australia  for  the 
Empire,"  let  it  be  observed.  In  a  recent  conver- 
sation with  an  Australian  friend,  who  was  paying 
a  visit  to  Ivondon,  I  obtained  from  him  a  curious 
admission.  "As  far  as  I  can  see,"  he  declared, 
"Australia  has  nothing  whatever  to  learn  from 
Great  Britain,  but  there  is  much  that  Great 
Britain  might  learn  from  Australia."  The 
speaker  was  an  able  journalist,  occupying  a 
responsible  position,  and  in  the  Australian  sphere 
of  life  anything  but  a  narrow  minded  egotist. 
And  his  attitude,  extreme  though  it  be,  is  surely 
preferable  in  every  way  to  that  of  the  Aus- 
tralians of  a  generation  ago,  many  of  whom  were 
highly  gratified  when  some  polite  person  would 
feign  to  mistake  them  for  Englishmen. 


250  Australian  Life 

The  restlessness  which  forms  so  dominant  a 
key-note  to  Australian  character  is  obviously- 
inherited.  The  founders  of  the  race  were  men 
of  enterprise  and  adventure,  drawn  across  the 
seas  by  tales  of  a  new  land  with  possibilities  in- 
definitely wide,  or  by  dreams  of  easily  won  gold. 
As  one  of  the  Australian  poets'  has  written: 

Our  fathers  came  of  roving  stock 

That  could  not  fixed  abide, 
And  we  have  followed  field  and  flock 

Since  e'er  we  learnt  to  ride. 
By  miners'  camp  and  shearing  shed, 

In  land  of  heat  and  drought. 
We  followed  where  our  fortunes  led, 
With  fortune  always  on  ahead, 

And  always  further  out. 

The  Australian  is  consequently  a  man  of  many 
places,  and  of  many  occupations.  He  will  aban- 
don his  settled  avocation  and  assured  income  at 
a  moment's  notice  in  order  to  enter  upon  a  new 
life  that  seems  to  afford  possibilities  of  increased 
prosperity.  He  can  become  prospector,  company 
promoter,  journalist,  or  trader  in  turn,  in  the  end 
to  fall  back  upon  his  original  occupation.  Even 
his  own  great  continent  of  three  million  square 
miles  does  not  contain  him,  and  at  the  hint  of 
prosperity  elsewhere,  he  is  off  to  South  Africa, 
or  Argentine,  or  any  other  spot  far  enough  away 
or  little  enough  known  to  hold  attractions  for  him. 

'  Mr.  A.  B.  Paterson. 


The  Australian  251 

The  lust  of  wandering  takes  possession  of  him, 
and  on  a  reasonable  excuse  he  must  gratify  it. 

This  restlessness  is  accentuated  by  the  uncer- 
tainty of  the  conditions  under  which  he  lives. 
Change  meets  the  Australian  at  every  turn:  he 
never  knows  what  a  year  may  bring  forth.  Two 
good  seasons  convert  the  land  into  a  smiling 
paradise,  gladdening  the  eyes  of  man  with 
pictures  of  easy  prosperity  and  happy  animal  life. 
Two  dry  years  make  it  a  desolate  hell,  horrible 
with  sights  and  sounds  of  dead  and  dying  ani- 
mals :  unsightly,  forbidding,  and  altogether 
sordid.  The  year's  work  of  the  settler  is  at  the 
mercy  of  the  seasons;  he  lives  for  ever  in  dread 
of  drought,  flood,  bush  fire,  and  those  plagues  of 
rabbits  and  locusts  that  are  continually  descend- 
ing upon  him.  The  cities,  too,  are  quick  to  feel 
the  pinch  of  bad  seasons,  with  their  consequent 
scarcity  of  employment  and  increase  in  the  price 
of  commodities.  Therefore  every  Australian 
State  has  its  percentage  of  floating  population 
that  flies  at  the  approach  of  ' '  bad  times ' '  to  seek 
easier  conditions  within  the  borders  of  a  neigh- 
bouring State. 

This  uncertainty  has  bred  in  the  Australian  a 
taste  for  speculation  and  a  fine  courage  in  the 
face  of  adversity.  He  has  learned  to  count  the 
risks,  and  makes  an  excellent  loser.  To  have 
planned  and  toiled  for  nothing  is  but  part  of  the 
game  of  life,  and  a  fresh  stdrt  must  be  made  with 
a  stout  heart,  and   as  often  as  not  with  a  jest 


252  Australian  Life 

upon  his  lips.  But  the  Australian  counts  his 
possible  gains  as  well,  and  in  this  respect  is  gifted 
with  a  vivid  imagination.  He  is  not  always  a 
good  winner,  being  easily  puflfed  up  by  the  first 
breath  of  prosperity.  Land  booms,  mining  booms, 
and  even  booms  in  butter  and  sugar  production 
are  the  frequent  result  of  this  over-confidence,  and 
the  effects  of  the  bursting  of  an  Australian  boom 
are  fraught  with  an  infinity  of  disaster.  When 
such  calamities  occur,  it  is  impossible  to  avoid 
a  feeling  of  wonder  at  the  extent  to  which  men 
reputed  shrewd  and  far-seeing  have  allowed 
themselves  to  become  involved.  It  is  equally 
impossible  to  refrain  from  admiring  the  courage 
and  self-reliance  shown  by  men  approaching 
and  past  the  middle  age,  in  marking  out  for 
themselves  fresh  careers,  and  facing  once 
more  the  vicissitudes  of  life  in  surroundings  so 
inconstant. 

This  familiarity  with  misfortune  makes  the 
Australian  tolerant  and  sympathetic.  Where 
prosperity  is  so  often  the  result  of  circumstances 
rather  than  merit,  poverty  is  not  so  hastily  set 
down  as  the  sign  of  either  lack  of  industry  or 
ability.  Men  speak  of  their  reverses  with  a  ready 
frankness  that  betokens  an  absence  of  fear  of 
condemnation,  and  recount  their  successes  with 
an  equal  readiness.  On  this  score,  the  Australian 
lays  himself  open  to  a  charge  of  boastfulness, 
and  those  who  fail  to  understand  his  interest  in 
his  neighbours  as  well  as  in  himself  may  readily 


The  Australian  253 

be  pardoned  for  holding  that  view.  But  the 
friendliness  and  helpfulness  of  the  Australian, 
when  once  experienced,  are  sadly  missed  by 
those  who  are  afterwards  called  upon  to  encoun- 
ter the  reserve  and  suspicion  of  older  countries. 

Underlying  the  Australian's  breezy  communi- 
cativeness there  is  a  strange  vein  of  shyness, 
and  his  tolerance  and  friendliness  are  tinged  with 
a  scepticism  and  cynicism  not  entirely  youthful. 
His  shyness  he  strives  to  conceal  by  bluster,  his 
scepticism  is  made  evident  by  his  readiness  to 
find  fault.  "If  Patti  came  to  Australia,"  de- 
clared an  exasperated  entrepreneur,  ' '  they  would 
set  about  criticising  her  at  once."  Quite  right, 
that  is  the  first  thing  they  would  do.  There  is 
no  place  in  the  world  where  an  outside  reputa- 
tion is  of  less  value  than  in  Australia. 

The  things  that  never  happen,  and  the  things  that  never 

could, 
Are  engraved  upon  the  tombstones  of  the  men  who  never 

would, 

says  one  of  their  verse  writers,  and,  with  some 
exaggeration,  sums  up  the  first  Australian 
attitude  towards  everything  not  yet  proven  in 
Australia.  This  attitude  is  not  infrequently  the 
prelude  to  an  appreciative  acceptance  that  com- 
pensates, by  its  fulness  and  warm-heartedness,  for 
all  preliminary  doubts.  When  once  convinced, 
the  Australian  knows  no  half  measures  in  his 
appreciation. 


254  Australian  Life 

lyife  in  Australia,  and  especially  in  the  Aus- 
tralian bush,  is  made  attractive  by  the  existent 
spirit  of  comradeship.  Staunchness  is  the  pet 
virtue  of  the  man  of  the  bush,  and  the  deadliest 
sin  in  his  moral  code  is  committed  by  the  man 
who  ' '  turned  dog  ' '  upon  his  mates.  ' '  Mate  ' '  is 
the  most  engaging  form  of  address  in  the  bush, 
just  as  "  Mister"  denotes  aloofness  tinged  with 
no  little  suspicion.  Services  that  money  could 
not  buy  are  rendered  willingly  and  cheerfully  by 
neighbour  to  neighbour,  and  that  without  any 
loss  of  the  feeling  of  independence  that  is  the 
bushman's  most  treasured  attribute.  It  is  curious 
to  notice  how  completely  this  feeling  of  comrade- 
ship has  been  accepted  throughout  the  bush.  The 
solitary  swagman  is  at  considerable  pains  to  ac- 
count for  the  absence  of  his  ' '  mate, ' '  whose  ex- 
istence somewhere  is  regarded  as  the  natural 
complement  of  his  own  being.  Two  such  mates 
may  work  the  country  together,  sharing  good  and 
evil  fortune  alike.  Each  may  be  ignorant  of  the 
other's  life  story,  and  even  of  his  very  name, — for 
nicknames  and  contractions  do  much  hard  service 
in  the  bush, — yet  all  their  interests  and  posses- 
sions are  in  common.  Not  infrequently  one  man 
may  obtain  a  few  days'  work  where  the  other  can 
find  none,  when  his  mate  will  camp  close  at  hand, 
and  the  money  earned  will  be  regarded  by  both  as 
a  common  possession.  Acquaintance  with  a  bush- 
man's  mate  constitutes  a  strong  claim  upon  his 
ready  and  immediate  friendship.     The  man  with- 


The  Australian  255 

out  a  mate  is  a  "  hatter, ' '  an  eccentric  person  who 
cannot  be  quite  right  in  his  head. 

No  sketch  of  the  Austrahan  character  could  be 
made  without  reference  to  Austrahan  pohtical  be- 
Uef,  for,  as  already  shown,  politics  are  a  large 
part  of  the  everyday  life  of  Australia.  Nowhere 
in  the  world  is  there  a  more  thorough  belief  in 
the  eflScacy  of  State  intervention.  The  Australian 
pays  his  politicians,  and  is  accustomed  to  lay  all 
his  misfortunes  at  their  door.  He  knows  no 
foreign  questions,  and  many  matters  that  are  else- 
where burning  questions  have  already  been  settled 
for  him.  It  was  said  that  during  the  Common- 
wealth elections  of  1903  each  state  was  agitated 
by  a  diflferent  question,  the  issue  in  Queensland 
being  fought  on  lines  entirely  remote  from  those 
aiSecting  Tasmania.  In  the  absence  of  broad 
dividing  principles,  the  Australian  applies  to  his 
politicians  the  test  of  his  own  convenience  and 
prosperity.  A  misplaced  school,  or  a  bridge  un- 
built, has  cut  short  the  career  of  many  a  promising 
politician.  Good  seasons  and  prosperous  condi- 
tions mean  long-lived  administrations  and  political 
indifference;  but  when  bad  times  come,  they  bring 
rapid  changes  of  Government  and  much  political 
fervour.  At  such  times,  the  Australian  approaches 
the  ballot-box  in  a  spirit  of  sanguine  pessimism, 
determining  to  give  the  other  side  a  chance,  in 
the  forlorn  hope  that  his  ideals  of  government 
may  yet  be  realised.  This  introduction  of  the 
speculative  spirit  into  the  realm  of  politics  shows 


256  Australian  Life 

the  Australian  in  all  his  weakness,  and  his  cheer- 
ful endurance  of  the  calamities  that  follow  only 
partly  justifies  him, 

I^iving  in  the  almost  continual  presence  of  sun- 
shine, the  Australian  is  naturally  cheerful  and 
good-humoured.  Although  subject  to  change, 
his  life  holds  no  extreme  of  poverty  and  want, 
no  abyss  into  which  he  may  be  plunged  without 
the  possibility  of  emerging.  The  signs  of  hard- 
ship and  suffering  are  not  always  before  his  eyes, 
nor  has  he  to  contend  with  the  class  distinctions 
that  serve  elsewhere  to  advance  those  who  are  al- 
ready "up,"  and  deter  those  who  are  "down"  from 
rising.  He  learns  initiative  from  observing  that 
those  who  have  risen  owe  their  success  to  oppor- 
tunities deftly  seized,  while  courage  in  the  face  of 
failure  is  his  unalienable  birthright.  Bach  of  his 
fellows  is  potentially  an  easily  made  friend,  char- 
itable of  his  failings  and  appreciative  of  his  vir- 
tues. Circumstances  and  surroundings  have 
combined  to  create  of  him  an  industrial  Bohemian, 
with  the  Bohemian  failings  of  thriftlessness  and 
lack  of  prudence.  With  borrowed  money,  he  has 
provided  his  big  cities  with  every  modern  con- 
venience of  necessity  and  luxury,  and  with  bor- 
rowed money,  constructed  long  railways  in  order 
that  they  may  be  fed  by  the  country  behind  them. 
Now,  just  when  the  prospect  of  a  broader  national 
life  lies  open  before  him,  he  finds  his  revenues 
consumed  by  the  heavy  burden  of  interest  these 
developments  have  entailed.     How  the  Australian 


The  Australian 


257 


will  win  through  the  diflSculties  immediately  be- 
fore him  will  be  interesting  to  see,  but  that  he 
will  win  through  them  nobody  who  appreciates 
his  individual  courage,  energy,  and  resource  can 
doubt. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

INDUSTRIAL   PIONEERS 

THE  coming  of  the  white  man  to  this  conti- 
nent of  the  Southern  Seas  is  an  oft-told 
tale,  but  not  without  its  constituents  of  romantic 
and  heroic  interest.  Any  close  examination  of 
the  details  of  Australian  discovery  would  be  out 
of  place  in  a  book  concerned  with  the  past  only 
so  far  as  it  affects  the  present.  The  outlines  of 
Australian  history,  however,  compel  some  atten- 
tion, since  the  means  by  which  the  country  was 
populated  is  largely  responsible  for  the  character 
and  distribution  of  the  Australian  people  to-day. 
The  beginning  of  Australia  was  a  legend,  due  no 
doubt  to  an  unrecorded  discovery  made  by  some 
long-forgotten  adventurer.  Certain  it  is  that 
early  in  the  sixteenth  century,  the  geographers  of 
the  time  agreed  that  somewhere  in  the  Southern 
Seas  there  was  a  great  unknown  land  of  mystery. 
The  map-makers  of  those  days  dotted  this  great 
South  Land  on  their  maps  of  the  world,  varying 
its  outline  and  dimensions,  each  according  to  his 
own  fancy.  In  1598,  we  find  the  Dutch  historian 
Cornelius  Wytfliet  writing  of  it:  "  The  Terra 
258 


Industrial  Pioneers  259 

Australis  is  the  most  southern  of  all  lands,  and 
is  separated  from  New  Guinea  by  a  narrow 
strait.  .  .  .  The  Terra  Australis  begins  at 
one  or  two  degrees  from  the  Equator,  and  is 
ascertained  by  some  to  be  of  so  great  an  extent 
that  if  it  were  thoroughly  explored  it  would  be 
regarded  as  a  fifth  part  of  the  world." 

Within  a  few  years,  Torres  confirmed  part  of 
this  guess — if  it  were  a  guess — by  sailing  between 
New  Guinea  and  the  mainland  of  Australia  by 
the  strait  that  has  ever  since  borne  his  name. 
Then  came  the  Dutch,  who  discovered  Australia 
as  far  as  the  history  of  the  land  can  tell.  Tasman, 
most  intelligent  of  ocean  explorers,  found  Tas- 
mania, which  he  named  Van  Diemen's  Land 
after  his  patron,  and  New  Zealand,  which  still 
bears  the  curious  Dutch  name  he  gave  it.  In- 
deed, Australia  was  known  in  the  seventeenth 
century  as  New  Holland,  and  had  considerable 
difl&culty  in  shaking  off  the  name.  Thus  a  good 
deal  was  known  about  the  great  South  Land  be- 
fore the  first  Englishman  landed  on  its  shores. 
He  was  William  Dampier,  a  genial  pirate,  who 
wrote  of  his  adventures  with  such  engaging  in- 
terest that  he  attracted  much  English  attention 
to  the  new  country.  On  a  second  voyage  to 
Australia,  undertaken  in  1699  in  the  Admiralty 
vessel  Roebuck,  Dampier  found  that  the  new 
country  offered  few  attractions  to  him,  for  he  was 
a  picker-up  of  unconsidered  trifles  rather  than  an 
explorer. 


26o  Australian  Life 

More  than  half  a  century  later  came  Captain 
Cook,  the  most  accurate,  painstaking,  and  scien- 
tific explorer  the  world  has  ever  known.  The 
conclusion  of  his  remarkable  life-work  left  little 
more  to  be  learned  about  the  Australian  coast, 
and  that  little  was  carefully  and  well  investigated 
by  men  who  had  the  advantage  of  acquaintance 
with  his  methods.  On  the  scientific  side  of 
Cook's  expedition  was  Sir  Joseph  Banks,  whose 
enthusiastic  account  of  Botany  Bay  remains  to 
this  day  as  an  apt  illustration  of  the  deception 
practised  by  Australia  in  her  most  winsome 
moments.  The  worthlessness  of  the  land  at 
Botany  Bay,  which  appeared  to  Banks  an  earthly 
paradise,  was  soon  discovered  by  Governor 
Phillip,  and  to  this  day  it  remains  barren  and 
unproductive.  But  it  is  well  that  Banks  formed 
such  a  glowing  opinion  of  the  new  country,  for 
his  advocacy  had  no  little  weight  with  the  Gov- 
ernment that  first  attempted  the  colonisation  of 
Australia. 

The  long  discussion  that  ended  in  the  despatch 
of  Captain  Phillip  to  establish  a  penal  settlement 
in  Australia  may  well  be  passed  over.  It  should 
be  said,  however,  that  the  early  advocates  of  the 
colonisation  of  Australia  did  not  even  include 
a  convict  establishment  in  their  scheme.  That 
was  added  by  a  Government  hard  pressed  to  dis- 
pose of  its  malefactors,  and  in  time  the  Colony 
became  a  penal  establishment,  and  little  else. 
Captain  Phillip  landed  at  Port  Jackson  January  26, 


Industrial  Pioneers  261 

1788,  a  date  that  is  now  annually  celebrated  in 
Australia  as  Anniversary  Day.  He  was  only  a 
few  days  ahead  of  a  French  expedition,  com- 
manded by  M.  de  la  Perouse.  Had  Phillip  been 
a  week  later  he  would  probably  have  found  Aus- 
tralia in  the  hands  of  the  French,  and  it  would 
be  necessary  to  write  the  history  of  the  continent 
after  quite  another  fashion.  For  many  years 
after  the  lauding  of  Governor  Phillip,  Australia 
remained  a  convict  settlement.  It  was  ruled 
with  an  iron  hand  by  prison  governors,  who 
looked  with  disfavour  upon  any  free  settlers  who 
might  come  there,  and  deliberately  stifled  any 
attempt  to  enlarge  the  area  of  settled  country  by 
exploration.  But  during  those  years,  one  man  at 
least  was  working  steadfastly  for  the  prosperity 
of  his  adopted  country.  Captain  John  Mac- 
Arthur  was  a  member  of  the  New  South  Wales 
Corps,  a  military  body  raised  in  Kngland  for  serv- 
ice in  Australia.  MacArthur  belied  his  military 
training  by  a  sure  instinct  in  matters  both  agri- 
cultural and  pastoral,  and  seems  to  have  grasped 
the  pastoral  possibilities  of  Australia  immediately 
upon  his  arrival  there.  He  was  fortunate 
enough  to  obtain  from  Cape  Colony  a  few  of  the 
merino  sheep  that  had  long  been  one  of  the  most 
jealously  guarded  possessions  of  Spain,  and  with 
these  he  began  sheep-breeding  on  scientific  lines. 
The  result  of  his  experiments  was  a  wool-produc- 
ing sheep  of  a  character  diifferent  from  that  of 
the  Spanish  flock,  but  bearing  a  fleece  of  equal 


262  Australian  Life 

quality.  He  was  granted  a  large  grazing  area  to 
carry  on  his  experiments,  and  encouraged  by  the 
interest  of  Governor  King,  who  then  ruled  the 
Colony,  his  flock  increased  wonderfully.  Within 
a  century,  those  few  Spanish  sheep  smuggled 
away  to  Australia  were  represented  by  flocks 
numbering  more  than  one  hundred  million, 
spread  over  the  pastures  of  the  whole  continent. 

Captain  MacArthur  was  the  father  of  the  pas- 
toral industry  of  Australia,  and  his  efforts  were 
splendidly  aided  by  the  work  of  the  explorers. 
North,  south,  and  west,  they  pushed,  over  the 
rugged  peaks  of  the  Dividing  Range  into  the 
strange  unknown  country  beyond.  They  fol- 
lowed the  great  inland  streams  of  New  South 
Wales  to  their  junction  with  the  river  Murray, 
and,  so  to  their  outlet  in  the  sea.  They  crossed 
the  desert  plains  of  the  interior,  and  the  fertile 
plateaux  of  south-eastern  Australia,  always  on 
the  look-out  for  land  suitable  for  settlement. 
Wherever  they  went  the  hardy  band  of  free 
settlers  followed,  glad  to  escape  from  the  ferment 
of  the  penal  settlement  on  the  coast.  Some  of 
the  explorers  lost  their  lives  in  their  bold  endeav- 
ours to  penetrate  the  unknown,  while  others  re- 
turned to  safety  after  performing  deeds  of  heroism 
and  endurance  that  seem  to  have  been  well-nigh 
miraculous.  The  practical  value  of  their  work 
was  shown  by  the  expansion  of  the  pastoral  in- 
dustry during  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  cent- 
ury, and  by  a  progress  in  settlement  that  enabled 


Industrial  Pioneers  263 

Australia  to  reap  a  full  advantage  of  the  golden 
awakening  that  was  to  follow. 

The  discovery  of  gold  did  not  take  place  until 
1851,  but  rumours  of  the  existence  of  the  precious 
metal  were  current  long  before  that  date.  The 
search  for  it  was  steadily  discouraged  by  the 
Government,  which  feared  the  eflfect  of  so  unset- 
tling a  discovery  upon  the  population,  then 
largely  composed  of  convicts.  But  the  golden 
discoveries  made  in  California  in  1848  drew  atten- 
tion to  the  possibilities  of  Australia,  and  it  was 
inevitable  that  the  secrets  still  held  by  the  soil 
must  sooner  or  later  be  brought  to  light.  The 
instrument  of  the  discovery  was  Edward  Har- 
graves,  a  New  South  Wales  settler  who  had  been 
attracted  to  the  Californian  coast  by  the  tales  of 
treasure  to  be  dug  out  of  the  earth  in  hatfuls. 
Hargraves  got  little  gold  in  California,  but  he 
got  an  idea  which  afterwards  proved  highly 
profitable  to  him.  He  was  quick  to  notice  how 
the  gold-bearing  regions  of  California  resembled 
country  he  had  seen  in  New  South  Wales,  both 
in  the  characteristics  of  soil  and  of  rocks,  and  he 
argued  that  gold  would  probably  be  found  in 
such  country  in  Australia.  Thither  he  returned, 
determined  to  verify  his  conclusion.  He  has 
left  an  interesting  account  of  his  find.  He  deter- 
mined to  "prospect"  in  Summer  Hill  Creek,  a 
tributary  of  the  Macquarie  River,  and  he  met 
with  success  almost  at  his  first  trial.  On  Febru- 
ary 12,  1 85 1,  he  found  alluvial  gold  at  this  spot. 


264  Australian  Life 

In  the  greatest  excitement,  he  turned  to  the  bush- 
man  who  accompanied  him,  and  explained  the 
consequences  of  their  find.  "  I  shall  be  knighted, 
Bill,  and  your  name  will  get  into  the  papers.  As 
for  our  old  horse  here,  when  he  dies  they  '11  stuff 
him  and  put  him  in  a  museum."  The  prophecy 
was  a  lame  one,  for  none  of  these  things  hap- 
pened. But  Hargraves  earned  by  his  discovery 
a  Government  reward  of  /"io,ooo  and  a  Govern- 
ment position  as  Commissioner  of  Crown  I,ands. 

When  Hargraves' s  discovery  became  known  to 
the  outside  world,  there  followed  such  a  rush  of 
immigrants  as  Australia  had  long  needed  and 
desired.  They  came  from  all  quarters  of  the 
globe,  brave,  enterprising  men  well  fitted  to  be 
the  ancestors  of  a  new  race.  Some  of  them  were 
little  suited  to  the  work  of  mining,  and  soon 
dropped  into  the  callings  they  had  followed  before 
their  pilgrimage  to  Australia.  Many  settled  on 
the  land,  or  in  the  towns  that  grew  up  about  the 
richest  mining  fields  of  the  country.  Some  re- 
turned in  disgust  to  the  Old  World,  which  they 
had  left  with  such  high  hope  of  fortune' s  favours. 
But  the  access  to  the  population  was  enormous. 
Victoria  alone  gained  a  quarter  of  a  million  peo- 
ple in  five  years,  and  nearly  all  of  them  pioneers 
of  the  finest  type.  Younger  sons  of  noble  houses 
rubbed  shoulders  with  enterprising  tradesmen, 
adventurers  from  every  corner  of  the  earth 
worked  side  by  side  with  stolid  miners  from 
Cornwall  and  L,ancashire.     But  they  all  had  the 


Industrial  Pioneers  265 

saving  grace  of  imagination,  that  brought  them 
so  long  and  dangerous  a  journey  across  the  seas 
in  search  of  the  wealth  of  Eldorado. 

Cities  grew  up  as  if  by  magic.  Not  many 
years  before,  John  Batman  had  found  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  Yarra  what  he  declared  was  a 
fine  site  for  a  "  village."  Melbourne  rose  on  the 
village  site,  and  in  half  a  century  was  a  city  with 
a  population  of  half  a  million.  The  "  roaring 
fifties"  are  still  remembered  as  the  days  when 
Australia  held  a  prosperity  never  equalled  in  the 
world's  history,  and  a  touch  of  romance  as  well. 
The  gold  fever  never  passed  away  from  the  land. 
It  is  there  still,  as  I  hope  presently  to  show.  But 
the  fury  of  gold-seeking  passed  away,  and  the 
red-shirted  miners  became  peaceful  farmers,  or 
prosperous  tradesmen  and  mayors  of  country 
towns.  Gold-mining  became  simply  a  trade, 
although  a  trade  from  which  the  element  of 
romance  could  never  be  altogether  dissevered. 

Twenty  5^ears  later,  Australia  had  another  burst 
of  prosperity,  though  it  was  a  fictitious  pro- 
sperity, as  it  is  easy  enough  to  see  now.  It  was 
created  by  the  lavish  expenditure  of  borrowed 
money  on  public  works  of  all  kinds,  and  on  com- 
mercial enterprises  of  a  private  nature  as  well. 
The  country  experienced  a  series  of  "booms." 
Money  invested  in  silver  mines  inflated  these 
to  many  times  their  real  intrinsic  value;  money 
invested  in  land  caused  extravagant  prices  to  be 
paid    for  worthless    allotments    in  remote    city 


266  Australian  Life 

suburbs.  It  was  an  era  of  frantic  speculation, 
and  it  ended  in  a  collapse  from  which  only  a 
highly  recuperative  country  could  ever  have 
recovered.  A  recital  of  the  successive  calamities 
that  struck  Australia  during  the  ultimate  decade 
of  last  century  would  read  exceedingly  like  the 
first  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Job.  A  great  in- 
dustrial conflict  paralysed  the  shipping,  mining, 
and  pastoral  industries,  and  dislocated  the  whole 
business  of  the  continent.  It  was  followed  by  a 
financial  crisis.  Banks  closed  their  doors,  thou- 
sands and  tens  of  thousands  were  ruined,  and  the 
country  was  plunged  into  a  commercial  stagna- 
tion from  which  it  has  only  now  recovered.  Then 
came  the  drought ;  and  it  came  to  stay.  The 
pastoral  history  of  Australia  knows  no  other 
drought  like  it,  for  it  lasted  for  ten  years.  Many 
pastoralists  concluded  that  it  was  a  permanent 
drought,  and  either  by  choice  or  necessity  aban- 
doned their  pastoral  holdings.  It  swept  away 
half  the  animal  life  of  the  country.  No  one  will 
ever  know  what  it  cost  Australia.  One  illustra- 
tion only  may  be  supplied.  The  wheat  crop  of 
Australia  for  1902-1903 — the  last  of  the  dry  years 
— was  worth  ^2,000,000  in  round  figures.  Next 
year,  from  a  smaller  area  of  cultivated  ground, 
wheat  worth  ;/^i 2,000,000  was  harvested.  Wheat, 
of  course,  is  only  one  product  among  many. 

The  greatest  asset  of  a  new  country  is  popula- 
tion, and  it  will  never  be  known  what  Australia 
lost  in  this  direction  by  the  drought.     The  popu- 


Industrial  Pioneers  267 

lation  of  the  continent  rose  from  two  million  to 
three  million  in  eleven  and  three-quarter  years. 
But  it  has  taken  more  than  sixteen  years  to  in- 
crease from  three  to  four  million,  the  present 
population.  The  position  would  have  been 
worse  but  for  an  opportune  discovery  of  gold 
in  Western  Australia.  An  outlet  for  the  rest- 
less surplus  of  unwillingly  idle  people  was 
found  in  the  continent,  and  while  the  rest  of  Aus- 
tralia was  languishing.  Western  Australia  ex- 
panded in  the  rays  of  a  golden  sun  of  prosperity. 
But  the  continent  could  not  be  bolstered  up  for 
long  on  the  basis  of  gold  mines,  and  would  have 
fared  exceedingly  ill  but  for  the  genius  of  one 
man,  whose  name  is  still  unknown  to  many 
Australians. 

Some  day  Australia  will  build  a  national 
Walhalla  —  perhaps  in  the  bush  capital  of  the 
Commonwealth — to  hold  the  statues  of  its  de- 
parted great  ones.  John  MacArthur  will  be 
there,  no  doubt,  and  Hargraves,  as  well,  for 
these  are  the  pioneers  of  two  of  Australia's 
greatest  industries.  My  third  worthy  is  James 
Harrison,  who  first  experimented  in  the  ocean 
carriage  of  perishable  produce.  Harrison  was  a 
journalist — when  he  was  not  an  inventor — who 
lived  in  the  sleepy  little  town  of  Geelong,  near 
the  entrance  to  Port  Phillip  Bay.  The  State  of 
Victoria  at  that  time  was  trying  to  dispose  of  the 
surplus  products  of  its  agriculturists — meat,  but- 
ter, fruit,  poultry,  and  the  like, — by  creating  a 


268  Australian  Life 

home  market  for  their  consumption.  That  is  to 
say,  an  endeavour,  not  wholly  unsuccessful,  was 
made  to  create  local  manufactures  and  an  artisan 
class  by  the  imposition  of  heavy  customs  duties  on 
imported  manufactures.  Harrison  attacked  the 
problem  from  another  point  of  view.  He  tried 
to  find  some  way  of  getting  these  perishable  pro- 
ducts to  the  empty  markets  of  the  Old  World 
without  impairing  their  freshness  and  value. 
Among  his  clever  inventions  was  one  for  making 
ice  cheaply  and  in  large  quantities,  and  he,  too, 
evolved  the  idea  of  the  refrigerating  chamber. 
An  attempt  to  put  his  invention  to  practical  use 
involved  him  in  financial  ruin,  but  it  established 
the  possibility  of  success. 

Harrison  failed  in  the  pecuniary  sense,  and 
ended  his  life  as  a  hard-working  journalist.  But 
his  idea,  to  which,  let  it  be  said,  he  gave  prac- 
tical form,  has  meant  the  salvation  of  Australia, 
The  Commonwealth  has  at  last  found  markets 
for  the  goods  that  are  most  readily  produced 
there,  and  they  are  markets  without  any  limit. 
In  1904,  Australia  sold  ^20,000,000  worth  of  pro- 
ducts in  excess  of  her  purchases.  Whatever  the 
political  economist  of  Great  Britain  may  have  to 
say  to  this  credit  balance,  in  Australia  it  is  re- 
garded as  highly  satisfactory.  A  large  propor- 
tion of  the  money  was  received  for  products  that 
could  only  leave  Australia  in  the  refrigerating 
chamber.  Cold  storage  has  even  shown  a  solu- 
tion of  the  rabbit  problem,  so  long  the  nightmare 


Industrial  Pioneers 


269 


of  the  Australian  farmer  and  pastoralist.  In  ten 
years,  ;^i, 500,000  has  been  received  in  Austraha 
for  frozen  rabbits,  and  so  a  pest  has  been  con- 
verted into  a  profit.  A  modest  monument  in  the 
Geelong  cemetery,  erected  by  a  few  admirers, 
and  an  occasional  reference  in  the  Press  are  all  the 
tribute  Australia  pays  to  James  Harrison.  He 
has  deserved  better  of  his  country  than  that. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Australia's  destiny 

I  HAVE  striven  to  depict  the  people  of  Aus- 
tralia busy  in  the  work  of  developing  the 
resources  of  their  country,  secure  from  all  outside 
influences.  The  generous  measure  of  self-govern- 
ment which  they  enjoy  permits  them  to  manage 
their  own  affairs  practically  in  their  own  way. 
The  remoteness  of  their  continent,  as  well  as  the 
protection  of  the  world's  greatest  sea-power,  has 
so  far  ensured  their  immunity  from  outside  inter- 
ference. For  more  than  a  century,  they  have 
worked  on  undisturbed.  The  Old  World  has 
been  torn  by  wars  and  revolutions,  yet  these 
have  meant  no  more  to  Australia  than  so  many 
extra  columns  of  interesting  reading  matter  in  the 
newspapers.  There  are  many  Australians  who 
act  as  though  this  golden  reign  of  peace  would 
last  for  ever. 

Yet  Australians  have  had  some  sharp  re- 
minders that  their  lands  are  broad  and  their 
people  few.  From  time  to  time,  some  great 
European  Power  has  coveted  one  of  the  many 
islands  that  dot  the  near  Pacific  waters,  and  has 
270 


Australia's  Destiny  271 

not  stopped  short  at  coveting.  American  influ- 
ence in  the  Sandwich  Islands;  German  aggression 
in  Samoa,  in  New  Guinea,  and  last  of  all  in  the 
Marshall  Islands  ;  French  interference  in  New 
Caledonia  and  the  New  Hebrides — these  incidents 
have  in  turn  given  the  alarmists  cause  to  raise 
their  voices.  Australian  politicians  have  been 
untiring  and  vehement  in  their  protests  to  the 
Colonial  Ofl5ce,  but  the  effect  of  their  representa- 
tions has  never  been  appreciable.  The  sphere  of 
foreign  influence  in  the  Pacific  has  enlarged  by 
almost  imperceptible  degrees,  and  only  the  other 
day,  the  Australian  Prime  Minister  awakened 
with  a  gasp  to  the  consideration  of  sixteen  foreign 
naval  stations  within  easy  striking  distance  of 
Australian  shores.  Distance  is  being  annihilated 
by  time,  and  the  remote  and  peaceful  Australian 
is  now  confronted  by  possibilities  it  was  once  the 
fashion  to  ridicule. 

Perhaps  the  Boer  War  furnished  Australia 
vi^ith  its  first  real  reminder  that  national  responsi- 
bility must  go  hand  in  hand  with  national  am- 
bition. It  is  not  easy  for  the  home-keeping 
Englishman  to  grasp  the  real  meaning  of  the 
wave  of  patriotism  that  swept  over  Greater 
Britain  during  the  progress  of  that  struggle. 
"  The  loyalty  of  the  Colonies"  has  degenerated 
into  a  phrase  for  the  use  of  party  politicians,  who 
too  seldom  stop  to  consider  its  meaning.  Whether 
the  Colonies  will  always  be  loyal  to  Great  Britain 
is  a  question  that  may  yet  have  to  be  decided. 


2  72  Australian  Life 

It  is  quite  certain,  however,  that  they  will  always 
remain  loyal  to  the  Empire,  provided  there  re- 
mains an  Empire  to  excite  the  passion  of  loyalty. 
The  Boer  War  opened  with  an  incident  that 
appealed  most  forcibly  to  every  Colonial  who 
cherished  this  ideal  of  Empire — the  invasion  of  a 
self-governing  Colony  by  a  hostile  force.  From 
that  time  forward,  the  Australians  and  New  Zea- 
landers — and  obviously  the  Canadians  and  other 
Colonials  as  well — regarded  the  war  as  peculiarly 
their  war.  It  was  clear  enough  to  any  one  who 
saw  much  of  the  men  who  left  their  homes 
to  fight  in  South  Africa  that  this  aspect  of 
the  quarrel  had  touched  their  imagination  most 
keenly.  It  was  the  first  real  Colonial  war  in 
which  the  Empire  had  been  engaged,  and  the 
notion  of  Empire  suddenly  gained  an  attractive 
reality  in  the  eyes  of  Australians.  Even  so,  per- 
haps, would  Canadians  and  Africans  rally  to 
their  help  if  ever  Australia  were  invaded  by  an 
enemy. 

From  the  sentimentalists'  standpoint,  this  view 
of  Australian  loyalty  is  possibly  less  attractive 
than  the  conventional  idea  of  love  for  * '  the  dear 
old  Mother  Country."  It  is,  however,  the  view 
consistent  with  the  Colonial  attitude  on  most 
Imperial  questions.  Canada  still  refuses  to  pay 
one  penny  toward  the  maintenance  of  the  British 
fleet,  simply  because  it  is  a  British  fleet  and  not  an 
Imperial  fleet.  Australia  with  a  grudging  re- 
luctance contributes  the  sum  of  ^200,000  annu- 


Australia's  Destiny  273 

ally  as  a  naval  subsidy,  and  New  Zealand  only 
pays  an  amount  in  proportion.  Yet  all  the 
Colonies  gladly  combined  to  bear  the  cost  of  an 
Imperial  line  of  cable,  in  the  administration  of 
which  they  were  allowed  some  voice. 

These  instances  of  Colonial  sentiment  and 
Colonial  policy  are  advanced  merely  in  explana- 
tion of  the  manner  in  which  the  Boer  War 
changed  the  Australian  outlook  upon  the  world 
outside.  It  brought  home  at  once  the  reality  of 
the  Imperial  tie  and  the  unsubstantial  nature  of 
the  Imperial  fabric.  It  showed,  as  nothing  else 
could  have  done,  the  desirability  of  an  Imperial 
Federation,  and  the  obstacles  that  existed  in  the 
way  of  such  a  Federation. 

Australia  to-day  is  halting  on  the  path  towards 
Imperial  unity.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  the  Aus- 
tralian believes  that  in  order  to  enter  into  closer 
relations  with  the  Mother  Country  he  will  have 
to  lay  aside  that  striving  for  race  purity  which  is 
an  instinct  with  him.  Since  the  Federation  of 
the  Australian  States  was  accomplished,  the  whole 
history  of  the  world  has  been  rewritten  for  Aus- 
tralia. A  new  Power  has  grown  up  in  the  Pacific. 
In  the  sudden  rise  of  Japan,  the  Australian  dis- 
cerns the  most  sombre  menace  to  all  his  most 
cherished  ideals.  From  the  Australian's  point  of 
view,  the  position  is  an  intricate  and  difiicult  one. 
Almost  in  the  moment  when  the  Commonwealth 
was  deciding  that  the  Japanese  was  not  a  desirable 
citizen  for  Australia,  and  passing  legislation  to 


2/4  Australian  Life 

exclude  him  from  Commonwealth  territory,  a 
stroke  of  British  diplomacy  exalted  Japan  to  the 
position  of  an  Imperial  ally.  The  outbreak  of 
the  Eastern  war  followed,  and  from  that  time  the 
Australian  attitude  towards  Japan  has  been  in- 
definable. The  Australians  love  the  Japanese  at 
a  distance.  They  regard  them  as  splendid  fight- 
ing men,  and  creditable  allies  even  to  the  Mother 
Country.  But  these  facts  do  not  alter  the  Aus- 
tralian view  that  the  Japanese  is  an  undesirable 
citizen,  whereas  the  Russian  is  a  desirable  one. 
During  the  progress  of  the  war,  a  motion  was 
tabled  in  the  Australian  Parliament  for  the  free 
admission  of  Japanese  into  the  Commonwealth. 
It  was  not  granted  even  serious  consideration. 

On  the  other  hand,  Japanese  feeling  on  the 
subject  is  equally  unmistakable.  The  Japanese 
are  not  given  to  parading  their  feelings,  or  an- 
nouncing their  plans  in  advance.  But  it  is  certain 
that  their  exclusion  from  Australia  is  at  once 
harmful  to  their  settled  policy  of  expansion,  and 
wounding  to  their  national  pride.  It  is  set  down 
as  a  matter  for  attention  as  soon  as  more  pressing 
affairs  have  been  settled.  Responsible  Japanese 
statesmen  have  openly  said  as  much.  Japanese 
merchants  who  have  business  relations  with  Aus- 
tralia are  never  tired  of  referring  to  their  griev- 
ance, even  in  business  correspondence.  The 
injury  crops  up  in  every  pearlers'  quarrel  at 
Thursday  Island  or  on  the  north-west  coast  of 
Australia,  and  the  angry  Japanese  coolie  does  not 


Australia's  Destiny  275 

hesitate  to  threaten  his  white  rivals  with  what 
will  happen  as  soon  as  Japan  is  able  to  take  in 
hand  his  grievances.  Australians  also  remem- 
ber how,  not  very  long  ago,  they  entertained  a 
Japanese  fleet  in  their  harbours.  The  visitors 
were  made  much  of,  and  feted  at  every  port, 
so  that  they  were  able  to  see  whatever  was  to  be 
seen.  No  Australian  who  has  ever  given  two 
thoughts  to  the  matter  doubts  now  that  the 
Japanese  information  as  to  the  sea  gates  and 
fortifications  of  Australia  is  full  and  complete. 
Possibly  they  credit  their  visitors  with  powers 
of  observation  greater  than  they  possessed,  but 
the  history  of  the  Manchurian  campaign  proves 
that  the  Japanese  Intelligence  Department  has 
never  yet  neglected  an  opportunity  so  favourable 
as  that  afforded  by  the  easy  Government  of  the 
Commonwealth. 

No  doubt  the  Australian  takes  an  alarmist 
view  of  the  situation,  but  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  "Yellow  Peril,"  which  is  still  only  a 
bugbear  phrase  to  Western  Europe,  is  a  very  near 
and  real  thing  to  him.  He  is  forced  to  look  for- 
ward to  the  day  when  Japan,  as  Great  Britain's 
ally,  will  request  that  the  disabilities  under  which 
the  Japanese  labour  in  the  Southern  continent 
shall  be  removed,  and  he  cherishes  no  illusions 
as  to  the  reply  His  Majesty's  Government  will 
make.  He  does  not  believe  that  the  decision 
will  be  influenced  in  any  way  by  Australian 
sentiment  or  Australian  opinion.     Since  the  day 


276  Australian  Life 

when  Australians  turned  British  convict  ships 
from  their  wharves  with  an  open  show  of  force, 
there  has  never  been  a  moment  when  the  Im- 
perial tie  has  been  in  any  danger  of  severance. 
But  that  moment  will  come  should  the  Common- 
wealth at  any  time  receive  the  order  to  throw 
open  its  territories  to  an  Asiatic  people. 

It  is  at  least  certain  that  Australian  life  of  to- 
day is  very  strongly  influenced  by  this  shadow 
which  lies  across  the  future  of  the  continent. 
Not  long  ago,  Mr.  Deakiu,  who  is  the  most  repre- 
sentative of  Australian  Nationalists,  was  inter- 
viewed on  the  subject  of  Australia's  relations 
with  the  outside  world.  He  expressed  very 
forcibly  the  view  that  the  Commonwealth  should 
immediately  prepare  itself  for  the  defence  of  its 
shores.  "  Australia,"  he  said,  "  which  used  to 
depend  largely  on  its  isolation  for  security,  is  now 
within  what  is  termed  striking  distance  of  no 
fewer  than  sixteen  foreign  naval  stations — San 
Francisco,  Mazatlan,  Callao,  Iquique,  Hawaii, 
Tahiti,  Samoa,  New  Caledonia,  Yokohama,  Port 
Arthur,  Shanghai,  Manila,  Saigon,  Bencooelen, 
Reunion,  and  Tamatave.  It  is  very  doubtful  if 
we  are  properly  prepared  to  meet  a  dash  at  our 
weak  spots,  delivered  by  two  or  three  fast  cruis- 
ers. It  is  also  very  much  open  to  question 
whether  our  harbour  defences  are  equal  to  the 
test  to  which  they  might  be  put.  The  forts 
about  our  principal  cities  are  most  of  them  of 
antiquated   design,    and  very  dangerous  to  the 


Australia's  Destiny  277 

garrisons  who  would  hold  them  under  a  fire  of 
modern  missiles.  We  require  submarines,  tor- 
pedo boats,  and  torpedo-boat  destroyers.  We 
have  enough  men  for  anj^  requisite  naval  forces, 
and  for  the  naval  reserves  a  great  influx  of  de- 
sirable settlers  is  necessary  all  round  Australia^ 
with  a  view  to  the  efficient  defence  of  the  whole 
continent,  of  which  at  present  only  part  is 
occupied. 

"  When  we  are  attacked,  it  will  not  be  with 
kid  gloves  or  after  convenient  notice,  but  it  will 
be  when  and  where  we  least  desire  it,  and  with 
remorseless  fury.  The  very  least  with  which  we 
can  be  content  is  such  an  expenditure  and  such 
defence  forces  as  will  afford  us  reasonable  guar- 
antees of  safety  to  our  ports,  our  cities,  and  our 
coasts." 

The  significant  features  of  the  interview  were 
the  omission  of  any  reference  to  the  British  fleet 
stationed  in  Australian  waters  and  the  desire  for 
a  great  influx  of  population.  The  presence  of  a 
British  fleet  in  Australian  waters  is  merely  a 
matter  of  social  interest  to  Australians.  They 
have  been  told  so  often  that  the  great  naval 
battle  for  the  protection  of  their  continent  will 
probably  be  fought  many  thousands  of  miles 
from  its  shores,  that  they  have  accepted  the 
statement  as  being  probably  true.  They  feel 
equally  sure  that  such  a  battle  will  be  fought 
around  no  quarrel  of  Australia's  choosing.  The 
advocates  who  from  time  to  time  have  urged  the 


1^'^  Australian  Life 

Colonies  to  increase  their  naval  contributions 
have  employed  the  very  arguments  calculated  to 
defeat  their  own  ends.  Australia,  like  Canada, 
has  been  led  by  these  enthusiasts  to  believe 
that  the  defence  of  Commonwealth  shores  rests 
with  the  Commonwealth.  The  national  spirit  in 
Australia  contemplates  nothing  more  certainly 
than  that  the  nation  shall  be  self-protective. 
Otherwise,  says  the  young  Australian,  we  shall 
not  be  protected  at  all. 

But  for  the  efficient  protection  of  so  large  a 
country  a  much  greater  population  is  required. 
On  this  point  all  political  parties  in  Australia  are 
now  agreed.  The  most  remarkable  effect  of  the 
apprehension  caused  by  the  rise  of  Japan  is  dis- 
played in  the  modification  of  the  Labour  pro- 
gramme. Mr.  Watson,  the  Labour  leader  in  the 
national  Parliament,  has  been  quick  to  recognise 
the  danger  of  the  waste,  unoccupied  plains  of 
Northern  Australia.  So  long  as  these  fertile  lands 
remain  undeveloped,  they  afford  the  best  possible 
reason  for  a  demand  that  Australia  should  open 
her  ports  to  coloured  labour.  Opportunities  for 
growing  cotton,  and  a  score  of  other  valuable 
tropical  products,  are  let  slip  year  by  year  for 
want  of  suitable  labour  to  develop  these  lands. 
It  is  not  probable  that  British  immigrants  would 
be  able,  in  such  a  climate,  to  do  the  hard  work 
that  is  required  in  a  satisfactory  manner.  The 
suggestion  is  now  made  that  immigration  should 
be  encouraged  from  the  races  of  Southern  Europe, 


Australia's  Destiny  279 

who  are  accustomed  to  perform  heavy  tasks  in 
a  climate  approximating  to  that  of  Northern 
AustraHa.  Although  this  scheme  is  practically- 
dependent  upon  permission  being  obtained  to  in- 
denture Italian,  Bulgarian,  or  Austrian  labourers 
under  contract,  it  already  meets  with  a  tentative 
support  from  the  Labour  party.  It  involves  an 
important  modification  of  that  clause  of  the 
Restriction  Act  which  forbids  the  introduction 
of  immigrants  under  contract.  The  Labour 
leaders  are  now  letting  drop  guarded  intimations 
that  they  are  prepared  to  modify  this  clause  in 
favour  of  the  white  labourer  from  over  the  seas. 
Mr,  Watson  recently  stated  that  people  had 
abandoned  the  idea  that  white  men  could  not 
work  on  Northern  plantations.  While  not  an- 
ticipating that  there  would  be  any  necessity  for 
it,  he  continued,  he  would  be  prepared,  under 
certain  circumstances,  to  consider  the  necessity 
for  allowing  the  indenturing  of  white  labour,  but 
it  would  have  to  be  done  under  very  carefully 
framed  conditions,  with  an  insistence  upon  the 
payment  of  fair  wages,  "  We  shall  have,  I 
think,  to  widen  our  platform,"  said  another 
Labour  leader,  ' '  so  that  people  from  Southern 
Europe,  who  are  accustomed  to  working  in  hot 
climates,  may  be  induced  to  accept  the  engage- 
ment of  work  in  the  Queensland  sugar  fields. 
The  engagements  would  have  to  be  under  Gov- 
ernment control.  I  would  even  go  so  far  as 
to  agree  to  a  system  of  assisted  passages,  on 


28o  Australian  Life 

condition  that  the  State  Governments  would 
undertake  to  settle  the  immigrants  on  land  on 
the  completion  of  their  engagements." 

The  fear  of  Japanese  aggression  will  have  a 
wholesome  eflfect,  if  it  causes  the  leaders  of  the 
Popular  party  in  Australia  to  take  immediate 
steps  for  populating  their  waste  territories.  By 
doing  so,  they  will  abolish  one  reason  for  outside 
interference.  At  the  same  time,  such  a  step  will 
prevent  the  coloured  man  from  gaining  any  firm 
foothold  in  Australia,  should  it  be  found  neces- 
sary in  the  interests  of  Imperial  unity  to  throw 
the  Commonwealth  open  to  Eastern  races.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  Australia  should  see  fit  to 
stiflFen  her  back  when  the  time  comes,  and  to 
insist  on  the  maintenance  of  a  white  Australia, 
the  advantage  of  an  immediate  influx  of  white 
population  cannot  be  overestimated.  In  Amer- 
ica, whither  Australia  has  turned  for  guidance  in 
the  solution  of  many  problems,  already  presented 
by  her  national  life,  it  has  been  found  that  the 
European  immigrant  becomes  Americanised  with 
extraordinary  rapidity.  This  lesson  the  Labour 
party  appears  to  have  learned;  hence  the  modifi- 
cation of  its  programme  and  legislation. 

It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  Australia  is  not 
entirely  blind  to  the  future,  as  the  Australians 
conceive  it.  The  day  may  be  far  distant  when 
Australia  will  be  called  upon  to  choose  between 
Imperial  unity  and  independence.  It  may  never 
come.     But  the  Australian  anticipates  that  in  the 


Australia's  Destiny  281 

near  future  Japan  will  press  for  the  recognition 
of  her  people  to  share  equal  rights  in  Australia 
with  any  white  man.  What  may  happen  then 
will  be  beyond  the  power  of  Australia  to  decide; 
except  upon  one  point.  The  present  writer  meets 
in  lyondon  many  Australians  who  have  settled 
down  to  existence  in  Great  Britain  more  or  less 
permanently.  "  Do  you  ever  intend  to  go  back  ?  " 
is  a  question  not  infrequently  asked.  Most 
Anglo  -  Australians  are  now  familiar  with  the 
answer:  "  Well,  I  may  have  to  go  back  some 
day — to  fight." 


INDEX 

Accent,  Australian,  i6i 

Aliens,  coloured,  117,  208 

Animals,  wild,  85 

Anniversary  Day,  114,  238,  261 

Arbitration,  compulsory  industrial,  127,  153 

Area  of  Australia,  4 

Artists,  Australian,  230 

Artesian  wells,  91 

Australian  Natives'  Association,  234 

"Bagmen,"  72 

Ballarat,  134 

Bicycles,  novel  use  of,  72 

"Billy-can,"  75 

Birth-rate,  declining,  161,  162 

Boer  War,  271 

Boundary  riders,  21 

"  Brownie,"  22 

"Brumbies,"  35 

Buckjumpers,  38 

Buffalo  in  Australia,  192 

Bulletin^  the,  226 

Bush,  aspects  of,  8 ;  fire  in,  51 ;  women  of,  167 

Ca-DETS,  military,  222 
Camel  in  Australia,  63,  189 
Camping  out,  190 
Capital,  Commonwealth,  242 
283 


284  Index 

Capitals  of  States,  7,  12,  95,  162 

Cattle  runs,  23 

Chinese,  the,  117,  210 

Christmas  in  Australia,  3,  50 

Churches,  221 

Clearing  the  land,  146 

Clubs,  177 

Coastline,  4 

Cockatoo  farmers,  43 

Constitution,  Commonwealth,  240 

Coolie  labour,  208 

Cricket,  182,  186 

Customs,  English,  2 

Cycling  swagmen,  71 

Dairying,  47 

Debt,  public,  126 

Defence,  222,  276 

Dialect,  aboriginal,  200 

Diet,  Australian,  170 ;  aboriginal,  ic 

Dog,  native,  197 

Dress,  158 

Droving,  58 

Drought,  66,  81 

Eight-hour  day,  128 
Empire,  unity  of,  273 
Equality,  social,  112 
Exclusiveness,  class,  175 
Explorers,  56 

Federation,  imperial,  273 
Fetes,  national,  238 
Fish,  Australian,  119 
Fishing,  190,  199 
Football,  187 
Franchise,  female,  164 


Index  285 

Fruit,  abundance,  of,  no 

Goi,D,  discovery  of,  263  ;  exploration  for,  57,  134 
Governor  as  host,  174 

Holiday  resorts,  106 
Home  life,  169 
Homestead  station,  17 
Horsebreaking,  36 
Horses,  wild,  35 
Hospitality,  2,  179 
Hospitals,  bush,  79 
Housing  question,  108 

Ice  habit,  172 

Immigration,  155,  278 

Immigration  Act,  154 

Imperial  Federation,  273  ;  unity,  273 

Irrigation,  90 

"Jackaroo,"  the,  20 
Japan  and  Australia,  273 
Japanese,  214,  217 

KalgoorIvIE,  138 
Kanakas,  217 

Labour  leaders,  130,  278 
Labour  party's  origin,  128 
Labour  programme,  131 
"Larrikins,"  114 

Magazines,  227 

Malays,  214 

Manila  men,  214 

Meat,  consumption  of,  171 

Mining  "rush,"  139 

Mirage,  66 


286  Index 

Music,  162 
Mustering  cattle,  34 

Nationalism,  240 
Navy,  Australian,  276 
Never-Never  Land,  7,  55 
Newspapers,  225 
Novels,  229 

Opium,  abuse  of,  117,  205 

Parks,  106 

Parliament,  Commonwealth,  240 
Parliament  House,  97 
Pastimes,  aboriginal,  200 
Pearl  fishing,  214 
Pensions,  old-age,  127 
Population,  increase  of,  155,  267 
Press,  224 

Professional  men,  103 
Protective  tariflFs,  12,  152 
Provincialism,  232,  239 
Public  buildings,  97 
Public  servants,  123 
"  Push,"  larrikin,  114 

Rabbits,  16,  39 
Racing,  183 
Racing  picnic,  26 
Railways,  92,  233 
Rainfall,  5,  81 
Rations,  station,  22,  70 
Refrigeration,  268 
Religious  teaching,  221 
Rents,  108 
Rivers,  5 
"Runs,"  pastoral,  7 


Index  287 


Sai,tbtjsh,  10,  87 

Schools,  48,  220 

Secret  societies,  212 

Selectors,  16,  43 

Servants,  160 

Sexes,  comradeship  of,  160 

Shanty,  bush,  78 

Shearers,  29 

Shearing  machine,  19 

Shooting,  190 

Slang,  bush,  73 

Sports,  50 

Squatters,  14 

Stampede  of  cattle,  60 

States,  division  into,  6 

Stockmen,  25 

Strike,  maritime,  128 

Suburban  life,  104,  119 

Sugar-cane,  cultivating,  210,  217 

Swagmen,  49,  69 

Swag-rolling  an  art,  75 

Tea,  consumption  of,  170 
Tea-rooms,  104 
Tenements,  108 
Theatres,  229 
Township  life,  180 
Trackers,  aboriginal,  201 
Transport  difl&culty,  150 

Unemployed,  the,  125 
Universities,  224 

Vineyards,  148 

Wages,  152 

Water  conservation,  88 


288 


Index 


White  Australia,  i6i,  280 
Wood-chopping  a  sport,  188 
Wool-classing,  32 
Wool-kings,  15 
Wool-shearing,  29 
Working  man,  status  of,  176 
Working  woman,  status  of,  164 


Our  Asiatic  Neighbours 


12<>.    Illustrated.    Each,  net  $1.20 
By  mail 1.30 


I.— INDIAN  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  Herbert  Compton. 

"  Mr.  Compton 's  book  is  the  best  book  on  India,  its  life  and  its 
people,  that  has  been  published  in  a  long  time.  The  reader  will 
find  it  more  descriptive  and  presenting  more  facts  in  a  way  that 
appeals  to  the  man  of  English  speech  than  nine-tenths  of  the 
volumes  written  by  travellers.  It  sets  forth  the  experiences  of  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  and  in  that  period  a  man  can  learn  a  good 
deal,  even  about  an  alien  people  and  civilization,  if  he  keeps  his 
eyes  open.  If  the  other  volumes  in  the  series  are  as  good  as 
'  Indian  Life  in  Town  and  Country '  it  will  score  a  decided  suc- 
cess."—Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"  An  account  of  nativelife  in  India  written  from  the  point  of  view 
of  a  practical  man  of  aflfairs  who  knows  India  from  long  residence. 
It  is  bristling  with  information,  brisk  and  graphic  in  style,  and 
open-minded  and  sympathetic  in  feeling." — Cleveland  Leader . 


II.— JAPANESE  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  George  William  Knox,  D.D. 

"  The  childlike  simplicity,  yet  innate  complexity  of  the  Japanese 
temperament,  the  strangely  mingled  combination  of  new  exid  old, 
important  and  worthless,  poetic  and  commercial  instincts,  aims, 
and  ambitions  now  at  work  in  the  land  of  the  cherry  blossom  are 
wel!  brought  out  by  Dr.  Knox's  conscientious  representation.  The 
book  should  be  widely  read  and  studied,  being  eminently  reason- 
able, readable,  reliable,  and  informative." — Record-Herald. 

"  A  delightful  book,  all  the  more  welcome  because  the  abl 
scholar  in  Japanese  Confucianism  that  America  has  yet  produce- 
has  here  given  us   impressions  of  man  and  nature  in  the  Archi- 
pelago."— Evening  Post. 


Our  Asiatic  Neighbours 


III CHINESE   LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  E.  Bard.     Adapted  by  H.  TwiTCHEi,!,. 

Every  phase  of  Chinese  life  is  touched  on,  explained,  and  made 
clear  in  this  volume.  The  nation's  customs,  its  traits,  its  religion, 
and  its  history,  are  all  outlined  here,  and  the  book  should  be  of 
great  value  in  arriving  at  a  better  understanding  of  a  people  and  a 
country  about  which  there  has  been  so  much  misconception.  The 
illustrations  add  greatly  to  the  value  of  the  book. 

IV PHILIPPINE   LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  James  A.  LERoy. 

Mr.  I,eRoy  is  eminently  fitted  to  write  on  life  in  the  Philip- 
pines. He  was  for  several  years  connected  with  the  Department  of 
the  Interior  in  the  Philippine  Government,  when  he  made  a 
special  investigation  of  conditions  in  the  islands.  Since  his  return 
he  has  continued  his  studies  and  is  already  known  as  an  author- 
ity on  the  Philippines.  His  book  gives  a  full  description  of  life 
among  the  native  tribes,  and  also  in  the  Spanish  and  American 
communities. 

v.— AUSTRALIAN  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

A  bright,  readable  description  of  life  in  a  fascinating  and  little- 
known  country.  The  style  is  frank,  vivacious,  entertaining,  cap- 
tivating, just  the  kind  for  a  book  which  is  not  at  all  statistical, 
political,  or  controversial. 


Our  European  Neighbours 

Edited  by  WILLIAM  HARBUTT  DAWSON 

12°.    Illustrated.    Each,  net  $1.20 
By  Mall 1.30 

I.— FRENCH  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  Hannah  Lynch. 

"Miss  Lynch 's  pages  are  thoroughly  interesting  and  suggestive. 
Her  style,  too,  is  not  common.  It  is  marked  by  vivacity  without 
any  drawback  of  looseness,  and  resembles  a  stream  that  runs 
strongly  and  evenly  between  walls.  It  is  at  once  distinguished  and 
useful.  .  .  .  Her  five-page  description  (not  dramatization)  of  the 
grasping  Paris  landlady  is  a  capital  piece  of  work.  .  .  .  Such 
well-finished  portraits  are  frequent  in  Miss  Lynch's  book,  which  is 
small,  inexpensive,  and  of  a  real  excellence." —  The  London  Academy. 
"  Miss  Lynch 's  book  is  particularly  notable.  It  is  the  first  of  a 
series  describing  the  home  and  social  life  of  various  European 
peoples — a  series  long  needed  and  sure  to  receive  a  warm  welcome. 
Her  style  is  frank,  vivacious,  entertaining,  captivating,  just  the 
kind  for  a  book  which  is  not  at  all  statistical,  political,  or  contro- 
versial. A  special  excellence  of  her  book,  reminding  one  of  Mr. 
Whiteing's,  lies  in  her  continual  contrast  of  the  English  and  the 
French,  and  she  thus  sums  up  her  praises:  'The  English  are 
admirable:  the  French  are  lovable.'  "—The  Outlook. 

II GERMAN  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  W.  H.  Dawson,  author  of  "  Germany  and  the 
Germans,"  etc. 

"The  book  is  as  full  of  correct,  impartial,  well-digested,  and 
well-presented  information  as  an  c.%^  is  of  meat.  One  can  only 
recommend  it  heartily  and  without  reserve  to  all  who  wish  to  gain 
an  insight  into  German  life.  It  worthily  presents  a  great  nation, 
now  the  gpreatest  and  strongest  in  ViViXo-p^."— Commercial  Advertiser. 

III.— RUSSIAN   LIFE  IN  TOWN   AND  COUNTRY 

By  Francis  H.  E.  Palmer,  sometime  Secretary  to 
H.    H.    Prince    Droutskop-Loubetsky    (Equerry   to 
H.  M.  the  Emperor  of  Russia). 
"  We  would  recommend  this  above  all  other  works  of  its  charac- 
ter to  those  seeking  a  clear  general  understanding  of  Russian  life, 
character,  and  conditions,  but  who  have  not  the  leisure  or  inclinar 
tion  to  read  more  voluminous  tomes.   ...   It  cannot  be  too  highly 
recommended,  for  it  conveys  practically  all  that  well-informed 
people  should  know  of  'Our  European  Neighbours.'  "—Mail  and 
Express. 


Our  European  Neighbours 


IV.— DUTCH  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  P.  M.  Hough,  B.A. 

"  There  is  no  other  book  which  gives  one  so  clear  a  picture  of 
actual  life  in  the  Netherlands  at  the  present  date.  For  its  accurate 
presentation  of  the  Dutch  situation  in  art,  letters,  learning,  and 
politics  as  well  as  in  the  round  of  common  life  in  town  and  city, 
this  book  deserves  the  heartiest  praise." — Evening  Post, 

"Holland  is  always  interesting,  in  any  line  of  study.  In  this 
work  its  charm  is  carefully  preserved.  The  sturdy  toil  of  the  people, 
their  quaint  characteristics,  their  conservative  retention  of  old  dress 
and  customs,  their  quiet  abstention  from  taking  part  in  the  great 
affairs  of  the  world  are  clearly  reflected  in  this  faithful  mirror.  The 
illustrations  are  of  a  high  grade  of  photographic  reproductions." — 
Washington  Post. 

V SWISS  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  Alfred  T.  Story,  author  of  the  *'  Building  of 
the  British  Empire,"  etc. 

"We  do  not  know  a  single  compact  book  on  the  same  subject 
in  which  Swiss  character  in  all  its  variety  finds  so  sympathetic  and 
yet  thorough  treatment ;  the  reason  of  this  being  that  the  author 
has  enjoyed  privileges  of  unusual  intimacy  with  all  classes,  which 
prevented  his  lumping  the  people  as  a  whole  without  distinction 
of  racial  and  cantonal  feeling." — Nation. 

"There  is  no  phase  of  the  lives  of  these  sturdy  republicans, 
whether  social  or  political,  which  Mr.  Story  does  not  touch  upon  ; 
and  an  abundance  of  illustrations  drawn  from  unhackneyed  sub- 
jects adds  to  the  value  of  the  book."— C/^?ca^o  Dial. 

VI.— SPANISH  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  L.   HiGGiN. 

"Illuminating  in  all  of  its  chapters.  She  writes  in  thorough 
sympathy,  bom  of  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  Spanish 
people  of  to-day."— S/.  Paid  Press. 

"The  author  knows  her  subject  thoroughly  and  has  written  a 
most  admirable  volume.  She  writes  with  genuine  love  for  the 
Spaniards,  and  with  a  sympathetic  knowledge  of  their  character 
and  their  method  of  life." — Canada  Methodist  Review, 


Our  European  Neighbours 


VII.— ITALIAN  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

"*  By   LUIGI   ViLLARI. 

"A  most  interesting  and  instructive  volume,  which  presents  an 
intimate  view  of  the  social  habits  and  manner  of  thought  of  the 
people  of  which  it  treats." — Buffalo  Express. 

"A  book  full  of  information,  comprehensive  and  accurate.  Its 
numerous  attractive  illustrations  add  to  its  interest  and  value.  We 
are  glad  to  welcome  such  an  addition  to  an  excellent  series."— 
Syracuse  Herald. 


VIII.— DANISH  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  Jessie  H.  Brochner. 

"  Miss  Brochner  has  written  an  interesting  book  on  a  fascinat- 
ing subject,  a  book  which  should  arouse  an  interest  in  Denmark  in 
those  who  have  not  been  there,  and  which  can  make  those  who 
know  and  are  attracted  by  the  country  very  homesick  to  return." — 
Commercial  Advertiser. 

"She  has  sketched  with  loving  art  the  simple,  yet  pure  and 
elevated  lives  of  her  countrymen,  and  given  the  reader  an  excellent 
idea  of  the  Danes  from  every  point  of  vi&vr."— Chicago  Tribune. 


IX.— AUSTRO=HUNQARIAN   LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND 
COUNTRY 

By  Francis   H.  E.  Palmer,  author  of  "  Russian 

Life  in  Town  and  Country,"  etc. 

•'  No  volume  in  this  interesting  series  seems  to  us  so  notable  or 
valuable  as  this  on  Austro-Hungarian  life.  Mr.  Palmer's  long  resi- 
dence in  Europe  and  his  intimate  association  with  men  of  mark, 
especially  in  their  home  life,  has  given  to  him  a  richness  of  experi- 
ence evident  on  every  page  of  the  book." — Tke  Outlook. 

"This  book  cannot  be  too  warmly  recommended  to  those  who 
have  not  the  leisure  or  the  spirit  to  read  voluminous  tomes  of  this 
subject,  yet  we  wish  a  clear  general  understanding  of  Austro-Hun- 
garian life." — Hartford  Times. 


Our  European  Neighbours 


X.— TURKISH  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  L.   M.  J.  Garnett. 

"  The  general  tone  of  the  book  is  that  of  a  careful  study,  the 
style  is  flowing,  and  the  matter  is  presented  in  a  bright,  taking 
way."— 5/.  fbul  Press. 

"To  the  average  mind  the  Turk  is  a  little  better  than  a  blood- 
thirsty individual  with  a  plurality  of  w^ives  and  a  paucity  of  vir- 
tues. To  read  this  b(»ok  is  to  be  pleasantly  disillusioned."— /1«Wic 
Opinion. 


XI — BELGIAN  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

B7  Demetrius  C.  Boulger 

"  Mr.  Boulger  has  gfiven  a  plain,  straight-forward  account  of 
the  several  phases  of  Belgian  Life,  the  government,  the  court,  the 
manufacturing  centers  and  enterprises,  the  literature  and  science, 
the  army,  education  and  religion,  set  forth  informingly."— 77i^ 
Detroit  Free  Press. 

"  The  book  is  one  of  real  value  conscientiously  written,  and 
well  illustrated  by  good  photog:raphs. " — The  Outlook. 


XII.— SWEDISH  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

By  G,  VON  HeidensTam. 

"As  we  read  this  interesting  book  we  seem  to  be  wandering 
through  this  land,  visiting  its  homes  and  schools  and  churches, 
studying  its  government  and  farms  and  industries,  and  observing 
the  dress  and  customs  and  amusements  of  its  healthy  and  happy 
people.  The  book  is  delightfully  written  and  beautifully  illus- 
trated."— Presbyterian  Bannei . 

"  In  this  intimate  account  of  the  Swedish  people  is  given  a 
more  instructive  view  of  their  political  and  social  relations  than  it 
has  been  the  good  fortune  of  American  readers  heretofore  to  ob- 
tain."— Washington  Even.  Star. 


Our  European  Neighbours 


In  Preparation  : 

XIII.-ENGLISH  LIFE  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

Entertaining  descriptions  of  English  Society  by  one 
who  knows  Belgravia  from  experience  and  White- 
chapel  from  keen  observation.  In  order  that  per- 
sonalities and  real  occurrences  might  be  described 
without  reserve,  the  identity  of  the  author  is  for  the 
present  withheld. 


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